Sunday, March 27, 2016

Happy Easter, Everytbody! (Part One)

My father went for a walk today.
     I must not have said enough Hail Mary's for Easter, because he found his way home.
     We're expecting some friends and relatives over for the holiday. As I was buffing the oak floor, the noise must have bothered my tired old Dad because he gave me the Mad Dog look you see on gangbangers and hippity-hoppers. He's given that look to everybody but my wife, because he knows she's in charge of his next meal.
     My father, when he's inclined, can give the ugliest bug-eyed look. It's very scary. Imagine the scariest monster in the scariest movie you've ever seen, like the ex-wife fighting Dustin Hoffman for custody of his son in Kramer Vs Kramer, now imagine that monster with its eyes bulging out of its skull and giving you the stink eye.
     It's a frightening look.
     As odd as it sounds, I'm reading a book about mathematics. It's called Things To Make And Do In The Fourth Dimension by Matt Parker. Who knew there even was a fourth dimension, much less that you could make things in it?
     The first thing I learned was how much more a book about mathematics costs than a regular book. It was bigger than a regular paperback, but smaller than a trade paperback, and it cost me $16.00 plus tax. I don't need a math book to figure out that the "plus tax" part means more money out of my wallet. That's why I've started to do my book shopping at the library bookstore. They may not have everything I want, but what they have, they have at a price I like.
     Unfortunately, they didn't have the book on mathematics, so I had to  go to a real (i.e. more expensive) bookstore and pay full price.
     I keep saying "book about mathematics" rather than "math book," because it's not a text book, like we had in school. It's a book about math the way the book Born To Run by Christopher McDougall is about running.
     I had wanted to learn about mathematics ever since I saw the movie Contact (which, incidentally, shows a cheesecake shot of Jodie Foster that to this day I'm still mathematically grateful for). In it, mankind is able to communicate with space aliens using mathematics, and the space aliens are able to send plans on how to build a complex facility, think along the lines of a nuclear power plant, that will allow for travel between the two civilizations, again, using math as the form of communication. It was a good movie, kind of long, but the shot of Jodie Foster made up for that.
     Years before I saw the movie Contact, I was fascinated to learn that Newton (the scientist, not the cookie), in order to prove his theories (such as calculating the distance between planets), had to invent a whole new discipline of math: calculus
     Now you know who to blame.
     It's taken me someone's whole youth to finally get around to learning about math, but here I am. The author is a mathematician, a comedian, and English, so the book is interesting, funny, and has bad teeth. He's made mathematics entertaining the way McDougall made running entertaining.
     For example, take the number 111,111,111 and multiply it by itself.
 
111,111,111 x 111,111,111 = ?
 
     The answer is kind of nerdy, but pretty cool.
     Another thing you can do with math is mathematically prove ALL movement is impossible. Mathematically, it is impossible to move from point "A" to point "B". What good does that information do you? Not much, until your wife wants you to go shopping with her and you're busy sitting in your favorite chair watching Contact on TV and waiting for that scene with Jodie Foster to come on.
     "Sorry, honey, I can't go shopping with you because it is mathematically impossible for me to move from where I'm sitting to where you're going."
     The impossibility of movement comes in mighty handy at such a moment.
     "And, since it's impossible for me to move, can you bring me a beer?"
     When I told my buddy Maloney what I was reading, he asked me: "Are you drunk?"
     Have I ever mentioned how it takes Maloney an hour and a half to watch 60 Minutes?
     (See? That joke couldn't have been written without mathematics.)
     I told him no, and then casually mentioned how a lady in a nearby town received a three million dollar sexual harassment settlement.
     "What does THAT have to do with anything?" he wanted to know.
     I then reminded him how, when he started jogging, he once told a female co-worker who had expressed interest in joining him: "If you want to go running with me, you'd better not pass out, because you'll wake up with your shorts around your ankles."
     Three million dollars.
     That's a hard way to learn about math.
     Maloney still didn't understand the importance of mathematics.
     "When do you ever use it?" he challenged me.
     "You use it everyday," I told him, and then was about to explain how , say, you invite a friend of yours and his family over for Easter. Let's just call that friend Maloney, because that happens to be his name. After you've made your plans on what you're going to serve, how much you're going to cook, and you've gone to the grocery store and bought everything you need, say that friend's wife calls and asks if she can bring a friend and that friend's family (two parents plus two children equals four). That's the original number of people who were invited over for Easter (n) plus four (4).
 
n + 4 = y
   
       So you recalculate, return to the store, and re-empty your wallet even further. And then, a few days later, that friend's daughter calls and asks if she can bring a friend and that friend's family (another two parents plus two children equals an additional four).
 
n + (4 x 2) = y
 
       And so you recalculate, return to the store, re-spend even more money, and, when you get back, you find Maloney's mother-in-law sitting at your table... eating.
      "I don't know why she's here," your wife whispers to you, but it's apparent that Maloney invited her too, probably to get her out of his hair.
     So that's now...
 
n + (4 x 2) + 1 = y
  
     "Y," as in: "Why are there so many people coming over for Easter?"
     But I didn't tell him that. Instead I explained to him that with mathematics, I could stop bullying.
     "Impossible," Maloney sniffed, dismissively.
     "The mathematical formula is this: The shortest distance between a bully and stopping him is a straight line from my fist to his face."
     "Jesus Christ," Maloney exclaims, not getting the joke, "that makes no sense."
     "Watch your mouth," I told my friend. "Today, you make Jesus cry. Tomorrow, he makes YOU cry.
     That's mathematics, too.   
   
 
Raising My Father
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@JimDuchene

Gary Shandling. / One of my favorite comedians. Dead at 60-something.
 
My father. / Alive enough to give me the evil eye while I buffed my oak floor.
I was bothering him at 97-years-old.
 
 

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