The Markives for 02007   

22 December 02007: Question Asked, Question Answered

I have heard back, indirectly, from Monica 2 about the scenario I posed two days ago.  The name of the celebritart in question will not be spoken at a certain house.  Sounds pretty reasonable to me.

Those crossing that threshold this holiday season (or afterward, I suppose), should take note.

M-->

20 December 02007: A Geography Lesson To Come

That sound you just heard is thousands of "50 State Quarters" albums going obsolete.  Six more quarters are on the way, for the District of Columbia, Puerto Rico, Guam, the US Virgin Islands, American Samoa, and the Northern Mariana Islands.

Storage and display issues aside, I think this is a great development, and certainly a fine continuation of the money-making project for the US Mint that the first 50 quarters have become.  Of those six places, I've been to two, expect to be in a third sometime next summer, and have a long-term obsession in getting to two others (in 02011, perhaps).  I may have to travel to Puerto Rico someday just to complete the set.  (I've got fourteen states left to hit as well).

Personally, I'm hoping that my album maker will just issue a third volume.  The map display users are out of luck, though.

M-->

20 December 02007: Some Rapid Advice

Evidently one of the Spears girls has gone and done something embarrassing*, and the I'net is sprouting pages (that I won't link to, out of some vaguely-defined sense of "principle") about "how to explain this to your kids".

I can do it in one sentence: "She did something stupid, and if there were any sense of proportion in this country, we wouldn't hear any more about her."

Reactions from the parents of our resident 10-year-old (who seems to be in the target audience for that sort of counseling, if what I've seen is to be believed) are awaited.

M-->

*--I've tried to find coverage, but it's been downright elusive.

5 December 02007: Picture Pages*

I've added a couple of photo collages of recent family events: Mom & Dad's 45^th anniversary festivities are here.  Emily's 3^rd birthday is there.

These aren't art, either.

M-->

*--Apologies to Mortimer M.

4 December 02007: ACME-4*

With the approach of the winter holiday season comes my annual invitation from RateTheMusic.com to submit my opinion of 50 or so holiday tunes, and with that usually comes some insight on the world of Christmas music.

I had planned, this year, to issue a call for better instrumental Christmas music.  Give the singers the holiday off, and let some serious talent flourish in a way that doesn't comprise a full-out assault on our collected eardrums.  It seemed to me that several of the entries on my list of worst holiday offenders were examples of bad vocal performances--so let's take action to cut those off at their source.  Performers and composers like Vince Guaraldi, Leroy Anderson, Mannheim Steamroller, and the Trans-Siberian Orchestra** should be encouraged to continue*** their work toward enriching the holidays even for those who speak no English.  I'd even be willing to let Bert Kaempfert's holiday legacy ("Jingo Jango" et al.) live on.  George Winston's done some good work here, though not exclusively here, as well.

The singers should just shut up.

Having now seen TSO in concert last Friday, this call for action makes even more sense now.  There's a lot of untapped potential in new instrumental versions of holiday tunes.  And based on that concert, there may be a lot more room for lasers and pyrotechnics in Christmas than we're allowing for now.  Wow.

But that may have to wait for ACME-5.

M-->

*--For those of you with better things to do than remember my abbreviations (which should be all of you), that's "Annual Christmas Music Entry #4".

**--Who continue their tradition of cashing holiday movie royalty checks, at least three times over this year.

***--Okay, maybe not Vince and Leroy, since they're dead.  But surely there's someone who can step up and fill those niches.  On the other hand, Mitchell Parish, lyricist for "Sleigh Ride" (two years after the tune was composed), has gotten better than he deserved out of this life.

3 December 02007: Ceci N'est Pas Art*

One of the missions of my last trip to Las Vegas was this: I set myself the challenge of photographing the alphabet among the signs of the city.  To me, it was an entertaining game as I roamed about LV while Laurie was logging spa time.

The result is this:

A challenge posed and met, I would say.  But I wouldn't call this art.

Laurie thinks otherwise, but I don't think she intends it as a compliment.

M-->

*--Which, being translated, is "This is not art".  Apologies to René M.

26 November 02007: Changing History

As the Hollywood writers' strike continues, some writers maintain their blogs.  One that I particularly enjoy is Mark Evanier's, of Garfield and Friends fame, among other fine works.  Posted on his site last Friday was the following:

The past few years, this weblog has celebrated the work of a brilliant cartoonist named Don Martin by noting his very funny holiday, National Gorilla Suit Day. I've encouraged you to remember the late Mr. Martin and his work and now I'm in the odd position of...well, not discouraging you but just announcing that Don's widow has asked me not to mention him or his holiday and to delete all past mentions of both.

I didn't receive the official request, but I'm not above complying with it.  Hence the missing button up top and some edited entries down below.

I still like Denmark, however.

M-->

21 November 02007 (12 years later...): Short Takes

1. In response to today's Family Circus: "No, but it should be."  (ACME-4 is coming soon.)

2. Numb3rs watch: One of the interesting features of Numb3rs is that Texas Instruments has teamed up with some of the show's staff to produce lesson plans for math teachers that are weakly tied into the math in the show.  ("Weakly" because some serious simplification is necessarily involved.)  When the show was screened at a math conference I attended in 02005, some of the teachers in the audience were asking for/demanding such lesson plans, and my initial thought was "Write your own lesson plans, people.".

Well, in the last couple of email updates on the lessons, there's been a note to the effect that some of the teachers are complaining about the content of the shows, that TI has no control over that, and that whiners people with issues should contact CBS directly.

Look, folks, it's a TV show that's designed as entertainment, not your personal source of classroom material.  And it's not The Electric Company.  It deals with the FBI, which should lead a reasonable thinking person to conclude that people might get shot or things might get blown up occasionally.  If you don't want to show it in your classrooms, you have an option: Write your own lesson plans, people.

3. On the dangers of attention to detail: While sitting in a bar watching a pair of Peanuts specials last night, I mentioned to some of my trivia teammates that an odd feature of those shows is that every character's socks match their shirt or dress*.  This applies even to minor background characters.  On digging a bit, it seems that this is another one of those phenomena that few besides me care about.  If you're so inclined, watch for it next week when the Christmas show reruns.

I first noticed this about 9-10 years ago, when Nickelodeon got the rights to all the specials except for Great Pumpkin and Christmas and started striping them in daytime under the general heading You're On Nickelodeon, Charlie Brown.  I recorded most of them then.  When you watch six or seven of these at a stretch, certain patterns emerge.

M-->

*--Sock-free Peppermint Patty is an exception, but her trademark sandals and customary shirt are both green.  Good enough for me.

7 November 02007: College Basketball Roundup

            News item: Grand Valley State 85, Michigan State 82 (2 OT).

            News item: Findlay (OH) 70, Ohio State 68.

            Say what you will about the whole Appalachian State-Michigan football dustup earlier this year, but at least A-State is a Division I program.

            'Twas a good few days for the GLIAC, that much is certain.

M-->

1 November 02007, beginning at 4:46 PM EDT: Holiday Music Roundup, Part 1

            Fresh from the onslaught of bad Halloween novelty tunes* yesterday (Really: How many parodies of "Monster Mash" do we need?), I was just alerted by telephone that my radio target WNIC has started playing occasional Christmas tunes this very day.  They're not "all-Christmas, all the time" yet, but surely that switch is not far off.

            Thanks to their I'net feed, I can monitor this situation from Calhoun County.  They're claiming that WNIC is Detroit's "Official" and "Original" Christmas station.  Sounds like an identity crisis to me.

M-->
 

*--There's no shortage of these because, of course, there's really no significant religious/secular duality on Halloween.  (Yes, I know about All Souls' Eve.  Not significant.)  Aside from horror film music, what I heard on the radio yesterday was a lot of weak attempts at humor, tangled up with the three or four Halloween comedy classics that exist.

24 October 02007: Another Axiom Falls

            I am quite willing to accept the notion that every foodstuff can be improved by the addition of either whipped cream or bacon.  I have yet to find a serious exception to this worthy rule.

            I am not, however, willing to believe that when improving chocolate is the goal, "bacon" is the answer.

            Some people feel differently, though.  This may well be another example of an industry that can cut back on its innovation budget.  Not eliminate it completely--I have enjoyed the new raspberry M&M's*, for example--but some things are best kept separate, and I think that candy and meat are two of them.  I thought that went without the need for proof.  Ah well.

            And I find it difficult to take a candy bar seriously when these are the directions for eating it**:

"Breathe... engage your 5 senses, close your eyes and inhale deeply. Be in the present moment, notice the color of the chocolate, the glossy shine. Rub your thumb over the chocolate bar to release the aromas of smoked applewood bacon flirting with deep milk chocolate. Snap off just a tiny piece and place it in your mouth, let the lust of salt and sweet coat your tongue."

            I feel like I should leave the room, to be honest.  It's hard to believe that someone's found a way to combine newage and smoked meat, but there it is.

M-->

*--And if they'd bring back the caramel M&Ms they had about 5 years ago, I know four people in Michigan who would be very happy.

*--Indeed, the fact that this even has directions for eating is enough to rule out its serious consideration.  I don't need to be told how to eat a Milky Way Midnight bar.

16 October 02007: Coast To Coast...Almost

            On Friday, 4 October, I dunked my hands in Lake Superior while in Marquette, MI for a mathematics conference.  In the interest of balance, I had hoped to do the same thing in the Rio Grande the next week at a different conference in El Paso, TX.

            It didn't quite work out that way.  The Rio Grande is pretty well fenced off in El Paso/Juarez.  I could, in theory, have gotten to the actual water, but it would have required scaling some razor wire (which would surely have attracted the attention of authorities with firearms) and probably cutting my hands up pretty well.  Given how opaque with mud the RG runs down there, bathing an open wound with river water would have been an open invitation to all sorts of opportunistic infections.

            However, I was able to salvage some distinction from this north-to-south odyssey by walking* across an international border into Mexico.**  Getting out of the USA was easy--pay your 35¢ or 5 pesos in Texas and that's it--you're good to go.  Getting back in was a bit trickier, although cheaper  (30¢ this time)--there was an actual immigration inspection on the American side.  Fortunately, I was able to resist the seedier bargains to be had in Juarez, and so sailed through customs.

M-->

*--The closest I've ever come to walking across an international border was hopping between the French and Dutch sides of St. Maarten with a camera in my hand, but it's not like those countries really care who's where on their shared island.  I did ride a bicycle into Canada once, but that access route was closed off years ago.

**--I think that this trip means that the last of my parents' kids has now reached Mexico.

28 September 02007: Nebraska Has It Right

            As the state government here in Michigan lurches toward a shutdown sometime this weekend, which has particular relevance here in the Calhoun County division of Clan Bollman, I have a three-word contribution toward a solution of the mess:

Part-time.

Unicameral.

Legislature.

A big chunk of the challenge currently raging in Lansing seems, at least to me, to stem from the inability of the two legislative houses--one controlled by Republicans, one by Democrats--to agree on much of anything.  As I so often said about the faculty at a previous employer of mine, I doubt you could get these bozos to vote unanimously to stay their own collective execution.

            And since there's no pretense that the Michigan state senate is anti-democratic yet in some sense equally representative*, as is the case with its Washington DC counterpart, one wonders what the point of two legislative houses is.

            In the interest of moving this forward, I'd be willing to go along with a repeal on term limits if it's tied to a single 109-member legislature.  Partly because I think term limits are a bad idea.

            Why 109?  Because it's a prime number.  Really.  I remember the craziness a few years back when the Michigan house of representatives was evenly split 55-55 between Republicans and Democrats, with the resulting confusion over control.  Make the body a prime number in size, and that won't happen until we get 109 viable political parties.  (Hence 109 rather than 111, which is divisible by 3.)

            The part-time thing?  Purely a money saver.  It seems to work in a number of other states.

M-->

*--For example, with one state senator per county, which would compound the problem by making the senate much larger.

21 September 02007: A Nephice To Be Named Later

            Although that heading suggests that there should be mention of a second-round draft pick or something similar here, there won't be.  I merely wanted to note for the world that Mathew Brennan's name wasn't set until well after he was born*.  The birth announcement phone call I got last night included the line "His name might be Mathew," which was confirmed only this morning.

            In keeping with precedent here at The Markives, herewith is linked the same advice for Patrick and Mathew that I linked into for Kate and Emily almost three years ago.  It should be noted that it's still drivel, as much now as then.

            One piece of history worth noting here: Matt's birthday coincided with the Canadian dollar reaching equal value with the American dollar for the first time in...well, my memory, at least.  I'm not sure what that means for our newly-extended family--I suspect it's an amusing coincidence only really noted in the Calhoun County branch--but its significance for the world seems greater than mere trivia.

            Welcome to the madness, Matt.

M-->

*--When you factor in the fact that his older sister was openly rooting for a boy so things would be "even" at Brennan Central, one might think that this naming possibility would have been addressed earlier.  But it's not my place to question things.  Merely to point them out.

13 September 02007: Notes On Geography

Or: Your Mileage May Vary

            Astute observers (or those with too much time on their hands) will have noticed a couple of small changes on the index page for this site, which has now been updated to reflect Dan, Anne, and Sarah's recent move to East Lansing.

            I have no particular objection to switching out "southern" for "northern" in denoting the location of their "branch o' the clan".  It's giving up my exclusive rights to the 517 area code that bugs me.  For at least a decade now, it's been my policy that the ideal distance to live from family is far enough away that they don't drop in without calling first*, and that is easily implemented by having an area code to yourself**.  I staked the Bollmanic claim to 517 in 01996, and have lived there*** ever since.

            One thing is certain: If I ever have to get a cell phone^†, I'll travel west to Marshall or Battle Creek and get one with a number in the 269 area code.  Call it one minor act of rebellion.

            In other travel news, I have been playing around recently at FlightMemory.com, which is a neat little Web site that allows you to track all of your air travel, to the extent that you remember it.  With this week's flight logged in, I have spent 379.29 hours in the air (According to their flight time data, that is.  This doesn't include time spent on the tarmac waiting for planes to move, or the flight to Amsterdam in 02001 where we taxied for half an hour, at which point I openly asked whether the pilot was aware that the aluminum tube we were in could fly or whether he was planning to drive to the Netherlands.  Not five minutes later, the pilot came on the intercom and assured us that, indeed, he wasn't going to drive all the way to Schiphol Airport.) and flown 167,566 miles (70.2% of the mean Earth-Moon distance).  My domestic travel history looks something like this (there's a separate map for international travel, which is, for me, far less interesting):

As it turns out, my top airport after Detroit Metro (99 flights) is Denver (20)--all that AP calculus travel, plus a connection or two here and there.  Las Vegas is a close third, and since AP calculus grading has moved out of Colorado while my travel to Nevada continues unabated, I look for McCarran to take over the second slot on that list before too much longer.

M-->

*--There's sort of an additional criterion that you should be close enough to get back home quickly if you need to, but easy air travel makes that less important.

**--Although with the recent and ongoing subdivision of area codes, this has become trickier.

***--Some of my previous homes are now in the 989 area code, but it was 517-land when I lived there.

†--And there's a professional development in the deep works that may require that in about 02010.

17 August 02007: Gee, Your Tires Smell Terrific

            I want to believe that this is a hoax.  I really do.

            Try as I might, I don't understand the point behind lavender-scented tires.  They're not exactly in a position for the user/owner to appreciate them, and I doubt that any soon-to-be-roadkill will find their last experience even homeopathically enhanced.

            The only folks who I figure are in a position to benefit from this curious sort of thoughtfulness are tire store employees.  Call me a cynic, but that doesn't strike me as a market that goes in for lavender.

M-->

15 August 02007: You Begin By Negating Euclid's 5^th Axiom...

            Word just recently reached me of the death of Marshall Shulman, noted scholar of the Soviet Union and commencement speaker at the University of Michigan's general graduation ceremony on 1 May 01988.

                Boy, would I have liked to have been asked to deliver that eulogy.  I have a 30-minute lecture on non-Euclidean geometry that would have been perfect.

            For the N - 3 readers who were fortunate enough not to have been there that day, herewith a brief synopsis: Shulman may well have been an accomplished scholar, but his commencement address that day was better suited for a graduate seminar in Soviet politics than a general crowd of semi-rowdy graduates.  I have seen many bad commencement addresses (professional hazard), but the fit between what he was saying and his audience was so incredibly off that it became comical to watch what was going on.  When he cut his remarks off early with the comment "The last time I was treated like this, I was in the Soviet Union," I don't think anyone not on the dais had very much sympathy for him.

            When I teach writing or public speaking, one of the things I emphasize early on is "Know your audience."  I thought that was pretty fundamental.

                Apparently not.

            And on that note and at 10:45 AM EDT, my sabbatical has officially begun by anyone's measure.  I'm off to deal some three-card Monte in the Yukon now.

M-->

8 August 02007: Movie of the Day Week Month Year Moment

            This is one movie based on a videogame that I could get into:

M-->
 

31 July 02007: Celebrity Deathwatch: Farewell To The Curse Of Threes

            Not that it will make any difference to the numerous fools among us, but yesterday's quartet* of celebrity death announcements really ought to put to rest, once and for all, that silly notion that bad things come in nice groups of three.

            I believe, however, that there's something much more interesting coming from all of this: You can tell a lot about a person by simply asking them which of these four deaths they're most interested in/saddened by/affected by.

            For my money, the Tom Snyder crowd would probably be the most fun to hang out with--and I count myself firmly in that category.  Keith Olbermann's tribute on last night's Countdown was an excellent sendoff.

M-->

*--For the news-challenged, that would be Ingmar Bergman, Bill Robinson, Tom Snyder, and Bill Walsh.

27 July 02007: A Couple Of Thoughts On The Internet

            I've recently decided that life is too short to do any of the following:

1. Read the I'net ramblings of people who think that George W. Bush is not a colossal failure, as a President and as a human being.

2. Read the I'net ramblings detailing the continued incompetence of said administration.  (This, I submit, is "fair and balanced" in a way that Fox Noise isn't.)

That should free up a fair amount of my copious free time.

M-->

30 June 02007: Out With A Whimper, Perhaps--But Without An Émile*

            Studio 60 On The Sunset Strip rode, quietly and nearly unnoticed, into the sunset on Thursday.  In so doing, though, the show successfully avoided the clunky finale curse that The Markives tracks and honors with the Émile Arturi Award.

            One lesson to be taken away from this is that if your finale is essentially a 4-part episode, it's easy to wrap things up without forcing way too much into the last of the quartet.  Another lesson, taught to us by the Frasier finale and reinforced by S60, is that setting up the finale to wrap up storylines in progress is a fine way to avoid the shame of the Émile.

            Oh, and if you have to go, going out on a Groucho Marx quote is a good way to do it.

            Another show is now added to the "no room for this good show, but the parade of empty reality programming continues" list, and now we wait until 16 October 02007, when the DVD release of the only season hits the streets.

M-->

*--In French, the last clause up there translates to "Mais sans Émile"--which sounds a lot better.

30 June 02007: Our Long National Nightmare...Resumes

            News item: Celebritart Tampa Marriott* reports that she "found God" while serving 23 days in jail.

            In the words of Dennis Miller: I guess God wasn't looking for her.

M-->

*--If her name really was "Tampa Marriott", we would be giving her exactly the attention she deserves--which is to say, none.

25 June 02007: An Outside Opinion

I need to work on that a bit, I think--the only questionable content that this little gem flagged was two occurrences of "dead" and one of "death". 

(I'm speaking only of the 02007 version of The Markives here--other years garner more restrictive ratings.  Monday Moanin' checks in at PG, by the way.  The JFI movie quotes page takes the brass ring with an R.)

M-->

24 June 02007: A Kentucky Travelogue

            I recently returned from another marathon of AP Calculus exam grading, this time in Louisville, KY, in and around the neighborhood of the Kentucky International Convention Center.  From a purely mathematical perspective, it was more or less business as usual (the interested reader is directed to The Markives from 16 June 02006).  From a "life and times" point of view, the game was (as we all expected) rather different.  Herewith, an observation or two:

            1. One of the neat perks of the Louisville Slugger Museum and factory tour is the 18" souvenir bat that is given out at tour's end.  One of the amusing perks is the on-site admonition that said bat, as well as any full-size bats one might wish to purchase, needs to be packed in your checked luggage and cannot be taken on an airplane as any kind of carry-on.

            One of the quirks of the security checkpoint at the Louisville airport is a glass box full of those souvenir bats, ostensibly collected from forgetful travelers.  They aren't kidding at the factory.

            2. Academics in rebellion can be an amusing sight.  This was the first year for AP in Louisville, and despite what press coverage would have people believe, it was an especially bumpy road.  Before the reading, we found out that Kentucky would be a one-year stop for the calculus graders before we head off to grade in Kansas City next year.  After the reading, you'd be hard-pressed to find anyone who doesn't support that advance decision.  Another AP subject, which will be back in KY next year, started a resistance movement, exhorting everyone not to accept a contract for the 02008 reading unless certain conditions--"better food" among them-- were met.

            No argument about the food--the KICC may have been a fine place to grade millions of tests, but their catering service just didn't cut it.  (Their catering staff, on the other hand, was both very professional and very pleasant.)  Perhaps you were in the mood, at breakfast time, for something that could be toasted and eaten with butter*.  Wasn't going to happen.  There was some commentary about the serious reuse of foodstuffs--things migrating from the main line to the salad bar, for example--that struck me as alarming.  More alarming, I suppose, had I been a salad bar patron.  Getting a glass of milk was pretty much impossible, unless you wanted to steal from the breakfast crowd's cereal stock.  And on and on, but you get the idea.

            Following further research, I discovered that "hot brown casserole" is an actual dish of some repute in the South** and not just a catch-all kind of phrase for a mysterious and possibly varying concoction.  However, I can't say that seeing it on the menu filled me with confidence.

            3. Also on the list of the disgruntled readers' demands was "Begin working to democratize ETS"--that would be Educational Testing Services, the overlord of all things AP.  Don't see that happening.  Giant bureaucracies don't get efficient by being democratic.  But this will be fun to watch from the distant environs of western Missouri next year.

M-->

*--Or the waxy yellow butter substitute of your choice.

**--There are those who might question whether Louisville is actually in the South.  For my money, and keeping this on a food level: If it's easier to get a glass of iced tea than a glass of ice water, you're in the South.  By that standard, L'ville qualifies.

21 May 02007: Weekend Roundup

            1. One good thing about digital cameras that I, being 97% a holdout devotee of film and paper, hadn't really realized until this past weekend: When you're taking a flash picture of something that's behind a piece of glass*, you find out much more quickly that all you have is a picture of a massive reflection.

            Unless your camera has sufficient flexibility to allow you not to use the flash, there's very little opportunity to backtrack and correct things, though.  I was camera-free this weekend, but a lot of people around me were having trouble with that concept.

            2. The Mid-Continent Conference, a frequent subject/target around here, has announced that it's changing its name to the Summit League as of 1 June.

            Summit?  When your conference includes a team in North Dakota, "summit" may not be the most appropriate metaphor.  Most of the other teams in this alliance are from similarly flat areas.  I haven't tested this myself, but it's been said that if you go to Fargo, ND and stand on a matchbox**, you can see all the way across the state into Montana.

            On the other hand, "Horizon League" was already taken--and a probably aspirational league for this rebadged group, in spirit at least.  Oddly, one stated reason for the name change is to get away from the abbreviation "MCC", which was thought to be too easily confused with the Midwestern Collegiate Conference--but that conference changed its name to "Horizon League" in 02001.  Go figure.

            I find it amusing that the Summit folks are rather insistent that they're the Summit League, not the Summit Conference.  I don't see that kind of fine-toothed distinction mattering to the folks at ESPN.  Actually, given the position of the Mid-Con in the pecking order of college sports, I don't see much about the league mattering at ESPN.

            3. The NFL is starting to do some sensible things about its out-of-control draft.  Talk of shortening the time between picks and of moving the draft out of New York City are both excellent steps toward needed change.  I have previously taken a shot at the NBA for its draft-in-NYC fixation (The Markives, 29 June 02006); the NFL is no less guilty of regional bias that diminishes the quality of the event.  (And it's become an event; there's no way to deny that anymore.)  Possibly more guilty by virtue of having two teams in the NYC metro area.

            Good on them.

M-->

*--Since I was at the Shedd Aquarium in Chicago when I put this together, the targets of people's photography were also behind a few inches of water.  That made reflection that much more challenging.

**--"Matchbox" may be a new arrival on the list of "backtronyms"--words that convey a sense of the past by their very utterance.  Other examples: "charge plate", "junior college", and "skate key".

11 May 02007: What Goes Around...

            Like the domestication of the dog, several things about which I've written in the past continue unabated.  Herewith, a partial roundup:

1. The Social Security Administration has released its list of most popular US baby names for 02006, and as projected here (The Markives, 7 September 02005), "Katrina" has taken a hit of over 100 spots on the list, falling to #382.  Oddly, it's up slightly in Louisiana and Mississippi.

2. 100,000π miles is not a milestone that most cars reach, so it should be recognized when it happens.  For me and my Escort, that moment came* last Tuesday, traveling east on I-94 at Exit 119 in Michigan.

3. Once again, Major League Baseball is breaking out the pink bats for Mothers' Day (The Markives, 15 May 02006).  As was the case in 02006, there will surely be no parallel observance 5 weeks later for men.

4. And, while it's still microscopically** relevant:

M-->

*--To an appropriately close approximation, of course.  A discrete odometer is no match for the irrationality of π, but when the dials read 14,159.2ish, (assuming the leading 3), I celebrated.

**--Nanoscopically?  Attoscopically?  Would you believe "yoctoscopically"?

27 April 02007 (Happy International Plaid Day!!): Professional Venting

            Quote O' The Day: From the comments section of an education-related weblog I frequent:

America’s educational system is being run by people who want to turn every subject into either “arts & crafts” or “social studies.”

While the original commenter was primarily speaking about the K-12 world, his words are only slightly less applicable to college.  At this time of the year, when students approach the end of a semester with a sudden desire to do much more work for their classes*, it rings quite true.  Writing a paper about calculus (one that will be, almost by definition, devoid of serious mathematics) will not, nor should it, erase a semester of neglect.  Not to mention the fact that someone whose knowledge of a subject--any subject--has been demonstrated to be in the low 50's, percentagewise, is scarcely fit to write a meaningful paper about it.

            Back now to the cardiac watch.

M-->

*--Usually phrased in a question to me as "Do you do extra credit?".  I don't, and I make this clear on Day One.  Frequently they offer to write a paper.

18 April 02007: Stephanie Someone Speaks!

            As I fully expected, Kristie from Allen Park, MI, who was one of the leading minds behind the idea of a group geometry final in 01997--but who was not "Stephanie"--has responded to yesterday's post, filling in a few other details from her side of the desk:

Several of these are valuable lessons.  And, á la Bart and Lisa Simpson, we have, in lines 1-2, found a practical use for geometry.

            Kristie's husband Steve sent in his own response, where he also, through no fault of his own, incorrectly identifies Stephanie:

Perhaps indeed.  Certainly food for thought.  And since Play-Doh is explicitly nontoxic  (it is, after all, really dough, though with a kerosene derivative added), "food" may be the most appropriate metaphor here.

M-->

17 April 02007: Ten Years Out: What Have We Learned?

            Today marks the tenth anniversary of a rather bizarre academic experiment, the story of which hasn't been assembled in one place before.  The time somehow seems right to put this account together, and this is probably as good a spot as any to do so.

            In 01997, I was teaching geometry* at a third-rate liberal arts college, to a most unusual group of twelve students.  I've never been averse to students working together on homework**, and this class took that to its near-ultimate limit.  As near as I could tell at the time, they organized themselves into a "committee of the whole" as much as possible to tackle the madness of Euclidean and non-Euclidean geometry.  For some reason, their exam scores didn't measure up to their otherwise decent performance on homework, so they concocted a proposal.  Their idea: Since they were working together on homework, would I consider making the final exam a group project that they could take on as a team?

            My usual impulse would be to reject such a proposal immediately, but I saw some possibilities for experimentation that were eventually attractive.  We negotiated a fairly complicated arrangement, which went something like this:

            1. There was a 48-hour period during which any student enrolled in the class could object to the idea, for any reason, and any one objection would have canceled the group exam and replaced it with a traditional final.***

            2. There would be an understanding that a group exam would consist , in the large, of more challenging problems than would be the case on a standard test.

            3. The exam would be preceded, three days earlier (the last day of classes under the crazy academic calendar in place at the time), by a 50-question^† true/false test that each student would take individually.  There had been true/false questions in each homework assignment and on the two previous exams, so this was no major modification (and T/F is not a good format for a team test.).  This counted for 1/4 of the final exam grade.

            4. Everyone would receive the same grade on the group portion of the exam.

            The group test was set for Thursday, April 17.  On Monday, I was meeting with my department and the exam came up.  I showed it to the other math faculty, and the judgment was that the students were in for a challenge.  (Which was, of course, the goal--indeed, that should be a goal of any final exam.)  Later that day, one of my students (call her Stephanie, which was not her name) remarked to my chair (who, let us remember, had already seen what was in store for the class) that she was very thankful that they had talked me into a group final.  My chair did not wreck Stephanie's good feelings.

            Thursday, April 17: The students started gathering for what was at least one part party and one part math test.  Maybe three four parts party.  At this point, it became clear that the ringleaders had put a lot of effort into the social aspects of the group final--pizza was delivered to the classroom, there was a soundtrack of background (and foreground) music picked out, and a souvenir gift was given to each participant^‡.  I remember thinking at the time that if they had put that kind of effort into studying for the math test, things would go well.

            They hadn't.  (And, to be honest, I didn't think that they had.)

            I read the directions to the class (this was a fairly involved set of rules, because I was collecting some data on the experiment and wanted them to be clear on how I'd be using it) and watched the first few minutes.  It became clear that their biggest mistake was in not using their people as effectively as possible.  For example: Question #1 asked for a list of 20 things that could be looked up in the textbook, although perhaps not quickly.  An intelligent strategy would have been to hand a book to two of the weaker members of the class and put the responsibility for that one in their hands.  That's not what they did.

            The execution errors continued.  I don't know how they collectively thought they had done when it was all over, (I do know that the pre-planned closing song on the soundtrack was one of triumph.) but suffice it to say that the score was not impressive (FERPA probably prohibits my releasing an exact number on the I'net.).  In my ten years of teaching up until then, this was the first class where no one earned an A.  I don't think it's happened since, either.

            So what's the final lesson from all this?  One thing that they definitely learned was "Don't ask for a group final."  Indeed, I am still in touch with one of those students, and her continuing advice for my current geometry students always includes that sentence.  That might be an oversimplification^§, however.  Better to say "If you're going to take a group final exam, spend more time studying than you do planning the menu and the soundtrack.", I think.

            Beyond that, I don't think there's a lot of general advice coming from this experience.  But it was still an interesting one-time adventure.

M-->

*--In a nice bit of parallel structure, this first draft is being written from the back of the computer lab where my current geometry class is meeting.

**--I do not, however, share the occasionally-current rage in mathematics for assigning students to homework groups and giving them specific roles within their groups.  Indeed, there is a person who has a standing order to have me slain if I ever designate a student as official "encourager" for his/her group.

***--As a student, I would have objected.  I really dislike forced group work.  Hence this out clause.

^†--51, actually.  There was a bonus question: "Name the mathematician/musician who performed a song about Nikolai Ivanovich Lobachevsky, co-discoverer of non-Euclidean geometry,"  In order to keep this an individual effort, the scoring for this question was inversely related to the number of students who got it right.  In those relatively early days of the I'net, several found the answer.

^‡--A small can of Play-Doh (I don't know why either.).  They gave me one too.  I still have it.

^§--Like so much else that comes out of that third-rate college.

7 April 02007: Retro-Vocabulary

            A word that you don't hear anymore is "Tiger-proof".  For the younger readers of The Markives, this meant, during its heyday, to modify a golf course so that Tiger Woods wouldn't have a dominant competitive advantage.*  (Unthinkable today, isn't it, kids?)

            Nowadays, we have valid laments like this article, which nicely illustrates my point about how one-player domination is bad for a sport.**  We are, of course, seeing this in spades during the weekend's Masters tournament, where the headlines race to inform us how far behind Eldrick is (and that he's "still in the hunt" no matter how large the gap is) before telling us relative trivia like, oh, I don't know, who's winning.

            As as strong supporter of excellence, I might be expected to be a fan of what T-Dog has accomplished on the PGA Tour.  No.  For a couple of reasons.  One is that the Rules of Golf don't appear to be quite the same for him as for everyone else.  I don't recall Lance Ten Broeck ever declaring an 1100-pound boulder a "loose impediment" and recruiting a crew from the gallery to help move it out of his way.  Legal?  Perhaps.  Ethical?  Nope***.

            The second came to the fore during his recent so-called "consecutive wins streak" that included several losses and was crafted on a cherry-picked schedule.  It was, to me, a farce to claim that that was in any way equivalent to Byron Nelson's record of 11 straight wins (I know that that wasn't over 11 straight weekends, but I also know that Byron didn't manipulate his schedule quite so much to assure favorable results.)  Actually, I'm surprised that the Woods groupies apologists fans in the sporting press didn't try for one more round of reflected glory by declaring his streak intact in stroke play tournaments after he fell in the World Match Play Championship.  That would have made at least as much sense as the after-the-losses rationalization that did transpire.

M-->

*--In the same vein, another word that's faded in the last decade is "Cablinasian", Mr. Woods' effort, in these ethnically oversensitive times, to give himself an ethnicity.  With his soon-to-be-born child being half that and half Scandinavian, we will need another abuse of the English language.  Or we could just call the kid "American" and be done with it.

**--Any sport, not just golf.  Replace "one-player"  by "one-team", if necessary.

***--There's a line in the Rules that basically comes down to "You shall play the course as you find it.".  That, to me, includes half-ton rocks.

3 April 02007: A Question of Definition

            As I mentioned to several of you on Friday night, there's a school of thought, recently discovered by me, that believes in the existence of something called "Detroit-style" pizza, which, at least in the first definition I found, seems to refer to rectangular pizza, and sings the praises of the middle, crust-free, "ooey-gooey cheesy slice of heaven"*.

            In all my years as a Michigan resident, I had not heard this phrase until February 02007.  Nor yet had any of you last week.  Having done a little digging around on the I'net, it seems like the matter is not so clear-cut as even I thought last month.

            Some sources** seem to believe that DSP requires that the sauce be put on last, which just strikes me as a bad idea.  Another claims the label "DSP" for pizza with chili, hotdogs, and onions.  There is a bit of consensus on "Detroit => square", but in metro Detroit, I think we just call that "square pizza"***.

            I'm not convinced that there's one solid definition of DSP in the same way that people readily agree on what "Chicago-style" or "New York-style" pizza means.  And until and unless that happens, which would seem to me at least to require that the good people of metro Detroit have some clear sense of what it means, it's too early to be using that term.

M-->

*--Being a fan of good pizza crust, I don't share their enthusiasm, but if it means more crust for me, I'm okay with this.

**--Admittedly, this is from Wikipedia, with all the perils and promises of that e-structure.

***--Ignoring the fact that it's frequently distinctly nonsquare--but I'll concede that "rectangular pizza" lacks a certain je ne sais quoi.

3 April 02007: Today's News

            According to the Supreme Court, the purpose of high school athletics is now officially to get students college athletic scholarships.  What a farce, even for a body with a long record of farcical behavior*.

            As is so often the case, Mick McCabe of the Detroit Free Press has the right take on all of this.

            I hope those irate parents from Grand Rapids are proud of what they've done.  I'm not unsympathetic to some of their arguments, incidentally.  But they seem obsessed with the whole "access to college scholarships" thing, which incenses me in a variety of directions.

            I suspect that the result of this rearranging will be a diminished high school sports experience for everyone, at least while it all shakes out.

M-->

*--"Baseball is not interstate commerce", for one.  Bush v. Gore, for another.

21 March 02007: Ashes To Ashes, Stardust To Dust

Every fireworks show should end with two buildings collapsing.

            While in Las Vegas last week, Laurie and I were lucky enough that our visit coincided with the demolition* of the Stardust hotel, which we were able to witness firsthand.  This being the 21st century, video footage is readily available online (here, for example).  Herewith, an eyewitness accounting of the event (photos to follow, perhaps):

13 March 02007, 12:30 AM PDT: We arrived outside the Riviera hotel (across the Strip, just NE of the Stardust site) and saw that the Stardust was nicely spotlit.  After watching the spotlights and some colored accent lighting play over the end of the tower for a few minutes, we decided to set up camp there for the destruction.  The crowds never got too big there--this may not have been the best angle for viewing, but it turned out to be both impressive enough and not at all crowded.  A further advantage became apparent only later.

1:00 AM PDT: The 24-hour McDonald's adjacent to the doomed buildings closed up.  Workers (probably not restaurant employees, I would guess) immediately began tenting the entire building and shrubbery (really) against anticipated clouds of dust.  Good to see that they were practicing safe demolition.

1-2 AM PDT: As curiosity-seekers passed through the area, it became clear that the plan to keep the destruction time quiet was working.  Granted, the information was readily available on and off line for those who wanted to know the date and time, but the area wasn't so filled with onlookers that there was any real threat to public safety.  Somewhere close to the end of this hour, the police started moving folks away from the Stardust side of the street ("Believe it or not, this is for your safety."), and the Strip itself was closed for several blocks each way--this slightly before the announced 2 AM closing time.

            It also became clear to me over the course of the hour that a flickering streetlight in my primary camera line of sight would be a bit of a problem if it were on at the time of the explosion.  We wandered about briefly before finding a pair of palm trees in the median strip that framed the towers nicely without introducing a variable light source.

            Some observers claimed to see people on the top floors of the building--this, I suspect, may have been a beverage alcohol aftereffect rather than a genuine sighting.

2:00 AM PDT: Things started getting serious as a truck loaded with portable barricades moved up the east edge of the Strip and started dropping its cargo between the slightly-enhanced crowd and the street.  My prime camera location was well within the boundary.  A couple of test fireworks were launched from the tower.

~2:20 AM PDT: For about 10 minutes, water was sprayed on and around the grounds in a valiant, yet ultimately doomed, effort to keep the dust down.  I later learned that, with an eye toward this eventuality, people were selling dust masks just to the south of us for $2 each.  Laurie pointed out that she was carrying a pair of knit gloves that we could breathe through if we needed them.

            Not long after this, the fireworks show started in earnest.  A lot of impressive rockets were fired from the top of the hotel tower--if the Stardust was going down, it was going down in style.  Photography suddenly got a lot easier due to the increased light.

2:33 AM PDT: Following a countdown that was projected on a side of the building that we were not facing (the last few digits of which we heard counted out), a series of explosions was set off inside the towers.  A moment later, they fell.

Epilogue: Once a building collapses, it turns out there's really not much else to see.  We cut through the Riviera casino to where we'd parked out back and drove back to the Stratosphere, our home for the second part of our sojourn.  As we pulled out of the parking lot, we looked left and watched an impressive cloud of dust rolling slowly** up the Strip, to an extent that Circus Circus was difficult to see, even with all of its lights.  We were able to outdrive the advancing dust, but I took a couple of pictures from the Stratosphere's parking garage as the dust continued to obscure the view.   A number of other accounts have mentioned getting caught in this last act of Stardustic defiance, with and without masks--we managed to miss out on respiratory trauma.

M-->

*--Technically, not an "implosion".  Rather, it was a "collapsing of a building with explosives".  Thanks to George Carlin for this clarification.  From Brain Droppings:

"I know I’m fighting a losing battle with this one, but I refuse to surrender: Collapsing a building with explosives is not an implosion. An implosion is a very specific scientific phenomenon. The collapsing of a building with explosives is the collapsing of a building with explosives. The explosives explode, and the building collapses inwardly. That is not an implosion. It is an inward collapsing of a building, following a series of smaller explosions designed to make it collapse inwardly. Period."

**--And I do mean "slowly".  There was no wind that night, and it seemed to me that the dust could easily be outrun, although possibly not outwalked.

9 March 02007: Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes*

            A line I frequently use when teaching future teachers is that elementary school mathematics has changed a lot since they were the age of the students they hope to teach, and thus they have to learn more math than they already claim to know.  I have no doubt that that applies to other subjects as well.

            But if Fox's Are You Smarter Than A 5th Grader? is any indication, there's a lot more astronomy in the current 1-5** classroom than was ever the case in my day.  And honestly, I have to question their reliance on the skies as source material.  I certainly learned a lot of astronomy before age 10, but I'm reasonably certain that over 95% of it was outside of school.

            I'll give Fox a pass on their unusual reliance on "animal science" as a category--that seems to be a way to subdivide science and thus be friendlier to the fools contestants.  This astronomy thing, however, goes too far--there's no doubt that astronomy is a worthy subject for grade-school kids, but "What constellation is the Big Dipper in?" seems to me to be beyond whatever grade level it was presented at last week.

            As long as subdividing fields has come up, I also wonder what the motive for separating out "Measurements" from mathematics is.  Again, it's probably an act of kindness.  Here again, though, is a questionable question: An allegedly third-grade question last week asked "How many teaspoons are there in 5 tablespoons?"

            To my mind, that's not something that comes up in a typical third-grade classroom.  I used it as a quiz question for my future elementary teachers last week, and the results, while not impressive, weren't surprising.  (Those who cook, of course, had an advantage.)

M-->

*--Apologies to David B.

**--Okay, that should more properly read "K-6", but those are the grades that Fox uses.

26 February 02007: News of Numismatics

            The Canadian Mint is rolling out a line of commemorative quarters for the 02010 Winter Olympics in Vancouver that bear images of various winter sports, and one for figure skating also.  They've started with curling, which seems as good a sport as any to open with.

            This news got me thinking about the ongoing state quarters program in the USA.  I wonder how many people have stuck with collecting those now that we're into the last 10?*  Is there the same level of interest in the states that are getting their coins released now toward the end that there was in the early days?

            And, coming back to curling: Say what you will about the coin design or the worthiness of curling as a sport, but that design is far, far better than the Michigan state quarter.  It's an irritant to me that that latter design is so remarkably weak.  Would it have killed the designers to stick a Model T or similarly old car on the map somewhere, for example?**

            Regular readers of these words will know that my prediction record is a bit shaky at best, but this is one that I got right: Very early on in  the state quarter program (probably right around the time it was announced), I guessed that Michigan's would be boring.  My rationale was the Absolut 50 States program from the mid-01990's, where an artist from each state was commissioned to design an Absolut ad representing their state.  These ran, one per week, in full-page ads in USA Today and were later published in a book.

            Michigan's was awful.  I'll admit that tapping into the car industry might not have been a wise choice for a vodka ad, but surely something else entered in the contest was more inspiring than this mess.  Check out some of the other artwork (Massachusetts, for example) and see how quickly you agree.

            Why I thought there would be a connection between a vodka ad and a coin is an open question--possibly a generally cynical level of commentary on the arts community in Michigan--but I made it, and correctly.

            Sticking on coins for a moment more: The US Mint has begun rolling out its series of dollar coins bearing the portraits of dead Presidents (The Markives, 10 August 02006).  One of the amusing features of this otherwise-noble plan is the oddball rule that Ronald Reagan doesn't get to appear on a coin unless Jimmy Carter has been dead for at least two years by the time Reagan's turn comes up in 02016.  Given the near-deity status that some in this country accord RWR, I'm surprised that there hasn't been more of an outrage over that.

            Especially because it would have been easy to grant a waiver to the usual rule about living people appearing on coins or currency to cover this possibility.  I'm hoping that Jimmy C. lives long enough for this to become an issue, just because it'll be fun to watch the outrage from the right wing.

            Not that I think that this fourth attempt in my lifetime at a new dollar coin will carry the day and succeed.  Not unless the powers that be take the logical and necessary step of withdrawing dollar bills from circulation, which they seem especially disinclined to do.  Our Canadian neighbors had the right idea there.

            And so this entry comes full circle.

M-->

*--There are at least three of us with the last name "Bollman" still piling up the coins, but that's hardly a representative sample.

**--I am fully aware, as is so often brought up when something like this comes up, that Michigan is "more than just cars".  Fair enough.  But that doesn't mean that we should ignore the significant role of the automobile in what this state has become.

7 February 02007: Joker!  Joker!  Joker!

            --I'll take "Recent Things That Reflect Badly On Homo sapiens As A Species" for $500, Jack.

            While I don't yet subscribe to the view that humanity is a once-proud species now circling the drain toward oblivion (which is from George Carlin), the past week has not raised my faith in my fellows.  To wit:

            1. On 2 February 02007, the citizens of Punxsutawney, PA performed their annual tribute to animal sadism* by overplaying Groundhog Day.  I don't believe that rodent-based weather forecasts are valid when they're obtained under coercion, and forcibly yanking an animal out of the ground just for the TV cameras certainly qualifies as coercive.

            2. On the same day, Comedy Central debuted The Sarah Silverman Program.  This is clearly a new definition of the word "comedy" not in the unabridged dictionary that has now taken up permanent residence in my car**.  She's not funny (and as is my custom, I did watch the show so I would know of where I would speak).  I didn't think so during her brief run on Saturday Night Live, nor in her standup appearances, nor during her vastly overrated appearance in The Aristocrats, nor yet now.

            3. As I type this, ESPNU is in the midst of 7 hours of live coverage of the official national signing day for high school football players.  This is not important outside the homes of the people directly involved.  It certainly doesn't rise to the level of national news.  Frankly, the idea of a high school athlete announcing his or her college choice at a press conference is a colossal mockery of what constitutes "news".  Sportswriters across America would do the country a great service by making it a condition of their employment that they refuse to attend these things.

M-->

*--That phrase might generate a couple of unusual visitors from Google...

**--Long story.

5 February 02007: At The Markives, We Take Requests

            This one's for Dave in Southgate and Jif in Livonia: The only Two left-handed catchers to play in the major leagues are Mike Squires, who caught two games for the Chicago White Sox in 01980, and Dale Long, who caught two games for the Chicago Cubs in 01958.  Reference (admittedly dated) here.

            I hope this helps.  More later.

            Update @ 10:07 AM EST: More info--as well as lots more names--here in a less-dated reference.  Jack Clements may be the name you folks seek.  Thanks, Ron!

M-->

31 January 02007: All Well

            Surgery went well this morning, although I will say again and for the record that any time your doctor uses the phrase "yellow crumbly stuff" in reference to something extracted from a human body*, something really wrong has been averted.

M-->

*--As opposed to, say, an art gum eraser.

30 January 02007: A Phrase For An Age

            It may not have the pithy attractiveness of "Save the cheerleader..."*, but surely the final line from last night's Studio 60 deserves that kind of exposure:

What goes in after the coyote?

When you've got Wild Kingdom being demonstrated in your workplace and the name preprinted on your paychecks isn't Mutual of Omaha, this is an entirely reasonable question.  I suspect that we'll never learn the answer, though.  Watch it here, where it comes up right at the end of Part 5 (starting with about 1:30 left).

M-->

*--Nicely referenced in last night's S60 episode, as someone tries to spread some Heroes buzz into the next hour on NBC.  Hey, it's certainly worth a shot.

28 January 02007: Much Ado About Nothing*

            To listen to the whining from people about the new requirement (begun on 25 January) of passports for Americans flying to Mexico, Canada, and almost all of the Caribbean**, one would think that getting a passport requires something like sacrificing a finger.

            News flash: You can get a passport for less than $150, all told.  If you can't afford that, maybe you can't afford international travel.  And it doesn't apply to land travel (particularly important in Michigan, of course) until January 02008, so you've got time to adjust.  Do so.

            Ordinarily, I think that most of these anti-terrorism impositions are just that--impositions.  I can't get worked up about this one, though.  America, you've been warned for months.

M-->

*--Apologies to Will S.

**--Though not, of course, Puerto Rico and the Virgin Islands, where tourism boards are taking new advantage of being American territory.  Good on them, I should say.

Previous editions of The Markives: