A (Small) Number of Ideas (Concerning Numbers)

Like Winnie the Pooh, I am a Bear of Very Little Brain.  I can only retain a small number of thoughts and, hence, use each thought with great frequency.  This works exceedingly well for me, as I do not have to search through huge numbers of options before selecting what to say.  Now, some people tell me that it can be annoying to hear me endlessly repeat my ideas, but I fail to see why that would be of any interest to me. 

I would compare this situation to my recent calamity with my cell phone.  I dropped it into a puddle while out for a run on a rainy day, and the sound stopped working.  Everything else still functioned--I could text, check emails, see the time and weather updates.  I could even make phone calls.  It was just that, when I made calls, the person at the other end could hear what I was saying, but I couldn't hear a word they were saying.  In other words, I had the perfect cell phone for me.

So if you've already heard the thought I'm about to express and would prefer that I skip over it, let me gladly acknowledge that "I can't hear you!"

Here is that oft-cited thought:  Cory likes to point out that there are three kinds of people in this world:  those that are good with numbers and those that aren't.  Cory would be in the latter category.  That fact is relevant in that, after my last post, which suggested that Cory was a moderately fit and successful older runner, he told me, "Your post suggesting that I am not slower than a turd on a log is so false.  I am not happy with what you wrote."

Which was exactly the reaction I was hoping for, of course.  If praise would have made him feel better about himself, I never would have suggested it.  Nonetheless, if you were to review my last post, you would see I was not praising him without a sound basis.  My praise was based on documented numbers:  race times, finishing places, years of age.  Or, in Cory's words, mumbo-jumbo and magic.  And now I have more of the same to offer.  In last Saturday's 500 Festival Mini Marathon, Cory finished second in his age group.  Out of 286 finishers.  And it wasn't close--the third place finisher was more than three minutes behind him.  So, in mathematical terms, Cory was easily in the Top One Percent.

To put that into perspective, consider the Occupy Wall Street movement.  If you recall, they had the slogan "We Are The 99%".  So Cory's race finish in the Top One Percent would make him the equivalent of the CEO of AIG.  (Which, from a moral standpoint, is reasonably accurate.  But I digress.)

(Cory actually posed for the cartoon above.  But then Linda made him shave off the mustache.)

Beyond serving as proof of Cory's continued running BRILLIANCE (hear that Cory?), numbers also provide such a great variety of entertainment.

 Why, just two days ago, I was reminding my Calculus II class of how to solve a problem using logarithmic differentiation.  (Yeah, I know, you have a hard time believing that anyone could forget logarithmic differentiation--I'm baffled by the concept myself.)  Anyway, when I got to the point where you go back to the original equation to substitute in for the "y" value, I mentioned that this need to return to the beginning of the problem has made a strong impression on people in all walks of life.  For example, it's obvious that when T. S. Eliot wrote the lines, "This is the end of all our searching, to return to where we started and see it for the first time", he was talking about logarithmic differentiation.  My students were quite taken by the Eliot quote, I can tell you.  Because it was the first thing I've said all semester that made sense to them, I suspect.

Actually, I think the Eliot quote they are most likely to understand is more apropos to the end of the semester this Saturday: "Her mind allowed one half-formed thought to pass; Well, that's done, and I'm glad it's over."

 T. S. Eliot solves a five-dimensional matrix equation.  Or explains The Wasteland.  (I'm not sure which is a more impossible task.)