Doing Math for Money

My son has been doing worksheets for the final 7th grade math test, and, almost as a joke, we offered him fifty cents for each problem he finished. He immediately finished 36 problems in about ten minutes. We don’t do “dollars for A’s” or any other sort of direct rewards for grades, so this was a new experience for him.

Of course we teased him that he’d really spent two hours whining about it and ten minutes working, and he fully realized that he was doing it for the money.

A bit later, at bedtime, it hit him, “You guys do math at work and get paid!”

I explained that a lot of the math I do was far more boring than reducing quadratic equations to standard form. My “math” tends to be adding up the search page result clicks from varying sources, divide by the total search attempts, express as a percentage, and repeat for the next day. Whee!

My So-Called Life, A Dozen Years Later

Last week our family watched (on VHS!) the pilot for My So-Called Life, the 1994 TV series. Most of it went over our twelve-year-old son’s head, but I was blown away. Even though I’ve seen a lot of the episodes multiple times on MTV marathons and I knew the acting was excellent, I was just amazed at the screenwriting. It is fluid, natural, wonderfully paced, visual, and the voiceovers even fit. There is a dinner scene where four people have four agendas, and they are all talking past each other. There is a montage of a single school day, with the teacher asking a question “What is the purpose of plasma?” followed by an answer “Because it is written in the first person” from the next class. Angela gives an honest response to The Diary of Anne Frank then realizes she has just sounded completely shallow in front of the whole class.

The whole thing should just collapse under the weight of the craft (Citizen Kane just about does that), but it soars.

Why? Because it is true to high school life. It is proof that at least one person grew up and did not forget what it was like and wrote it down.

My Preaching Schedule

I guess preaching is in my blood, like it or not.

I didn’t follow my father and grandfather into the ministry, but I recently realized that I have a regular preaching schedule. Twice a month, I deliver a “Scoutmaster Minute”, a traditional homily given at the end of a Boy Scout troop meeting. We gather in a circle, and I have a minute (or two or three) to say something meaningful and memorable.

My “parish” is this Scout troop, and the boys are in my care for a number of evenings and weekends each year, so I need to connect in those few minutes.

My father is an excellent preacher and a student of the art, so I’m not completely ignorant. Still, knowing and doing are separate things, and I’m still learning to practice what my father preached.

The ancient (and boring) formula is “tell ’em what you’re going to tell ’em, tell ’em, and tell ’em what you told ’em.” You might be able to get all that into a twenty minute sermon, but it is a bit much for a minute or three.

My father’s preferred approach, learned from Reuel Howe at the Institute of Advanced Pastoral Studies (how do I remember these details?), is more work, but more rewarding — take something from scripture, something from life, and relate the two.

Scouting doesn’t have Scripture, and Baden-Powell was a bit of a free-thinker and pacifist for the current crowd at BSA National, but I keep my eye out for authoritative bits of outdoor lore.

I also pay extra attention to my own life and my own memories. What have I done that is an example, good or bad? What matters this week for this troop?

Somehow, I picked up a few useful sermon-writing habits from my father — always carry a book, make notes, practice your stories and listen to other’s stories. Start with a rich pile of material (Gerry Weinberg’s fieldstone method), but also learn how to make a “good parts version” of that material. A great storyteller can spin a long yarn (Utah Phillips’ “Moose Turd Pie”) but I’m more comfortable with short and sweet.

I’ve started posting my Scoutmaster Minutes; the first two are Steve Irwin and Take the Bruised Apple.

These look very short when written down, but the second one is about a minute and a half when spoken, and felt pretty long in the meeting. Steve Irwin comes in right around thirty seconds and was very effective. I find this an interesting thing to get better at.

I haven’t had a problem finding a core, some quote or experience, but my first few minutes just petered out at the end. The two that are posted are after I started working on the close. What should I work on next?

The Right Tool for the Job

My son watered our plants on the patio with the hose, but missed a couple (and watered a couple of chairs, too). We pointed out the missed plants, so he got his super soaker, loaded that up, and used it to water them. It was just the right amount of water for two plants.

When choosing between tools for a job, why not choose the fun one?

Older than FORTRAN

But only by a few months. Today is my 50th birthday, and the most reliable “birthday” I can find for FORTRAN is October 15, 1956, the publication date for the FORTRAN Programmer’s Reference Manual (scanned PDF).

I wrote my first program in FORTRAN. To be specific, FORTRAN IV EMU from Eastern Michigan University, running on the IBM 1401 (I think) at Rose-Hulman Institute of Technology. I was at Operation Catapult, a three-week program for high school juniors. Big fun, and I’m glad to see it is still running.

The program was a two-body simulation, with the paths printed in in line-printer graphics. I wonder if I still have a copy of that somewhere in the “closed stacks” at the back of the garage.

FORTRAN wasn’t my first computer language, that was BNF grammars. I was reading SF in math class because I was being taught logarithms for the third time, and I’d learned them before I was taught them the first time (got a slide rule for Christmas in seventh grade). The teacher noticed and had me stay after to chat. He sympathized, but asked me to at least read a math book during class. So, I found one on computer programming and churned through it over a couple of weeks. I still have a fondness for colon-equals as an assignment op.

PowerBook out the Window

No, I didn’t throw it and I’m not switching. Someone broke our window at 3:30 AM and grabbed my PowerBook off the table. Gone.

A window breaking is really loud. We thought that the kittens had manged to knock down a stack of cookie sheets with dishes on top of it until we found the broken glass by the table. The Palo Alto police were really nice, but it was hard to get back to sleep. The kids slept through the whole thing, of course. And all this two days before we left on vacation.

The IT department has been really great — my new IntelBook is already delivered, waiting for me to return from Maui.

I miss the data more than the hardware. I wasn’t very good about backups, but I did treat most of the laptop data as volatile. E-mail lives on the server and I’m religous about the digital photos being on two separate storage devices before I delete them from the camera. Code is all in CVS. Software keys are copied to the home iMac. Still, there are plenty of miscellaneous things that are just gone, like notes from the Patrol Leaders Council (time to trust the Troop Scribe to take notes).

Since I’m starting clean on the new machine, I’m open to recommendations for Mac software (especially backup).