Is there a collective noun for "numbers"?

I'm pondering if there is a collective noun for numbers, other than the word numbers, course. That would be silly. Digits show up in all different kinds of places and are used in different ways. Is there a term to describe them when they show up on one blog entry?

0: number of times I'd eaten eggs benedict in the last 40 years

1: number of weeks in the fall quarter completed to date
also: number of times a student has asked me this quarter: Exactly what are you drinking?

2: difference between number of students who showed up on day one and the number of chairs in the room that faced the front

3: number of times I've eaten eggs benedict for breakfast in the last two weeks

4: number of minutes it takes me to cross campus from my brand spankin' new office to the room my 8 o'clock class is held in; does not include coffee pick-up

48: number of hours it took to render a digital copy of 5+ hours of Pride & Prejudice, starring His Dimpleness Colin Firth, and move it to my iPhone. Time well spent. Mr. Wickham looks smarmy no matter the screen dimensions.

4663: the simple, elegant and completely wrong answer



And just because it's cool: Zipskinny. Enter your zip code and get some cool census data, like the education level attainment, demographics, income levels and how it compares to neighboring zip codes. Not a bad use for numbers. Whereas "dictionary diving" is a term that refers to the act of getting lost in a dictionary even though you only went in with the intention of finding one word, "digit diving" refers to getting lost in a page a numbers like those on Zipskinny. I'm going to go type in the zips of all the places I've ever lived. Ta for now.

Brand new year! Let's rock!!

New books, sharpened, pencils, spiffy calculator, a backpack with 23 compartments that open and close. New clothes, a parking hang-tag, new shoes.












Excitement, anticipation, enthusiasm, eagerness, impatience, ambition, gusto, zest, piquancy.







When is the first break?








Agnes, by Tom Cochran
All images copyright 2007 Creators Syndicate Inc.

Commute time of 0 minutes

This big-town/small city I live in is tucked away in the Pacific Northwest, an area of the country where the denizens are construed as being more concerned about the bovine contribution to global warming than whether said bovine are goooood eatin'! This perception should not imply that we don't like good barbecue. In the words of one Mr. Cambpell: Mm-mm-good.

A few years ago, alittle shack popped up on the side of the main road through town. I thought that the structure was going to become YAES, or Yet Another Espresso Shack. You can't swing a dead cat in this town without hitting an espresso shack. For those of you who do not know what I am talking about yet were alive when the Kodak Instamatic was in use, think Fotomat booth on edge of parking lot. That form of the shack has evolved from its humble roots as a spot to drop off film to have it returned in little pieces of 3 x 5 beauty into a place to acquire a legal drug. Anyway, this newest shack was soon sporting the best aroma in town, that of burning charcoal and scorched meat.

Without showing evident concern about cleanliness issues—or the clean air act, for that matter—the locals have turned the Meat Shack into a success. In fact, the Shack has grown into an actual building with tables and place settings. Granted the food is served on paper plates and the utensils are plastic, but at least there is an alternative to take-out or eating in your car. Since Meat Shack is a name that conveys the humble beginnings of this local success story, I think I'm going to stick with it for the duration.

Well, driving past the Shack yesterday, getting caught up in the mouth-watering scent that is barbecue while trying to stay on the road, I noticed that the owners are not resting on their laurels. Since they moved across the road from the original shack to the newer eat-in structure, there has been constant upgrading of the building and rearranging of charcoal grills and fuel and what-all it takes to get the poultry, bovine, or swine heated to an appropriate temperature. The latest edition of progress has been to put a fenced-in yard right next to the restaurant with—you guessed it—future meals grazing on the insta-lawn!

This looks like the barbecue version of the seafood restaurant lobster tank. I wonder if the customers also have the option of offing their entree as well. "Well it's been a few years since I attended rabbinical school and I need to practice my schetica skills. Let's go get some barbecue, kids!"

I'll let you know what the turnover is in the pen. Maybe the beasts are just there as a draw. Maybe not.

Ow ow ow

I'm a little sore right now. I went on a hike yesterday, 12 miles
round trip, 6 miles in and up, then turn around and reverse. The turn
around point was a Alpine lake at 4400 feet, fed by those snowy
patches on the mountainside right over there. The presence of the snow
didn't keep me and my hiking partner from going for a swim. OK, I lie
a little. When I stripped off my socks and plunged my feet into the
lake, I had second thoughts, but after sitting there for 40 minutes I
realized my feet were no longer numb. So how bad could a jump in be, I
said to myself.

Well, my hiking partner has a history of this sort of thing, the
swimming right by snow in December sort of thing. So she wasn't really
waiting for me to take the first leap (I don't think). Since I could
see the bottom and also see that there suddenly was no bottom, and
since I had never swam anywhere except in a man-made space or a space
roped off by man, I wanted to see how we were supposed to get in.

So she did this shallow dive maneuver that got her away from shore and
past the bottom we could see. When she surfaced and turned to face me,
she looked exactly like Gollum--her eyes were HUGE and she was making
thus sound that I can't describe but which I interpreted as "all my
skin has tightened so much due to the cold that this is the only sound
I can make."

So I followed Gollum, taking a few tiny steps to the edge if the
seeable bottom then launching myself ... and when I broke the surface,
I couldn't breathe because every muscle in my body had clenched
tightly. This, of course, means that I also began to sink like a
stone. I made some noise that I hope Gollum interpreted as,
"forgiveness will be hard to come by" and got back to shore.

In retrospect, it was very cool and I will probably do it again. Of
course, I say this now, having just arisen from the waterbed, 12 hours
removed from the hike out and the long wait for a pizza and the
incoherent babbling due to exhaustion and hunger. Hey, I only got one
tiny little blister from the experience. All in all, it was worth it.

Brave New (Handheld) World

Here I sit on this lovely bench set out for the sole purpose of
providing a resting spot for those whose companions are lost in the
aisles of bolts of material. And on this, Day 15 A.i., it is the
launch point of my first mobile blog post. While The T peruses
patterns that may make it into a quilt made of my favorite t-shirts (a
project going on at least two years now), I am happily tapping away.

We threw a NAP (Not A Party) yesterday and the iPhone was the center
of attention for a bit. It's a tough call which feature was most awed-
my awed-ly received: a) the instant google mapping of any address tapped
on in the contact list or b) the two-fingered unpinching that enlarges the
screen image.

OK The T has emerged. I'm going to try and post this. More later...

Brave New World

I have ascended, fair readers, to the ranks of the truly Apple-ized. Yes, I acquired an iPhone exactly 13 days ago (hang on to that, it's an important factoid). I have since been transmogrified into a very hard person with which to live. "Hey! Check this out! Watch this! Isn't this cool?!?" To spare you all the intense proselytizing of the believer all in one posting, I will try to space out my reactions, stories, and ohmygawdisn'tthisamazing comments over several days. Let's start with one now, shall we?

One a-ha! moment in particular happened on Day 2 A.i. (A.i. = After iPhone) when I was cooking dinner. While boiling water to soften the noodles of the day, I was listening to tunes and checking email. In the middle of that multitasking, The T called. The music faded into silence, the iPhone did a little vibrate-thing and the screen identified the incoming caller. I pinched the cord in that fat spot where the mic lives and answered the call. Following the exchange of whatever earth shattering information the call contained, I pinched the fat spot again and the music returned to whence it was. Just two screen taps or so with my stylus finger (formerly known as the index finger) and I was back in the email I was reading. It was truly cool.

Maybe the cool factor was more extreme for me because my computer—and, therefore, my only access to email and the web—is on the second floor of the house. For me to check in on the virtual world, I have to leave the floor of the house where the action happens. Since our 1925 house only has four electrical sockets (one for the waterbed, my computer, The T's computer and a lamp/Mr Coffee/toaster combo), there is no way my computer can move downstairs. But with the iPhone, I was able to check email in the kitchen! Granted, the email I get is along the lines of "check out this skateboarding beaver video" but to me it is important.

There are a number of other How Did I Live Before stories which I'll post as I can get the words in order, but for now let's return to the fact that this is Day 13 A.i. Yesterday, Prophet Jobs, donning the denim and t-neck denoting his high rank, faced his congregation and said, "iPhone price, I slash thee!" Thus, the moaning and wailing began. This is so not how Apple has operated in the past. Usually, the price of an iThing drops right before it falls out of production. I totally didn't see this one coming.

[On the other hand, The T has a history of making me wait before I buy a gadget. The last time she slapped on the Handcuffs of Patience, the price of my desired Palm dropped $100. She was making me wait this time as well but since I wanted to get the gadget before classes started so I could devote every waking moment to playing with it without my classes suffering, I jumped. Yes, I'm hearing about it.]

Well, Apple has a 14-day return policy. Well, I didn't want to return my new favorite iGadget, I just wanted a $200 refund. So I called the Apple Shrine I bought the iPhone at and explained to them, "Timewise, I am within the 14 day window for returns. Physically, I am so far removed from you that only a transporter beam could get me to your store in time to show you my receipt and claim a refund for the price difference." Well, let me tell you, this was the easiest transaction I have experienced in quite a while. All it took was a few rather cryptic numbers from the receipt read over the phone and the next thing I know, I have a new credit card bill emailed to me showing a credit of 200-iBucks.

I didn't think it was possible, but now I like the iPhone even more.

Finally! Time to type

Finally, my travels are over! Let the panic about the upcoming quarter commence. But before we get to that, let me get you caught up on a few things.

1) My travels to a point east of here for a calculator training workshop. Being a math dork, I feel we should define our variables. If home base is called Pt. A, let's call my travel destination Pt. B, shall we? Now that we know what we're talking about, let's make it very clear that the next time the state senators from Pt. B and the surrounding counties come up with a resolution for secession from the state, they should be allowed to leave! They've already done it once. I say if this behavior becomes a habit, we take advantage of it and cut them loose. Oy, what a hole. Upon my return, I was asked if I saw the waterfront near the river. I can honestly say I saw no evidence of greenery or water in my stay in Pt. B. Ugh. I felt like I was in a version of Sin City. The calculator is quite cool, by the way. I need more time with it alone but I think we're going to get along just fine.
Anyhow, while trying to figure out how to navigate my way out of a part of town I should not have been in, number 2 occurred.

2) The T calls while I am cruising Pt. B looking for my workshop site and verifying that the car doors are locked and she reads to me from a lovely document sent from my former state of residence. Seems they want to garnish my taxes or something because I wasn't a good little doobie and return the state plates and registration tags when my vehicle was registered in my new state of residence. Since I didn't do so, they stuffed my file in a drawer for 2 years and then sent it to the state collection agency that tacked on an additional 17% to bring the grand total to over $1600. Need I mention that is more than the bluebook value of the car? So now I have to prove that the car was registered in the state of Pt. A. This supposed solution to the question what do you want from me besides $1600? was not easy to figure out. Every time I called the state to ask more information, I was told by the friendly automated voice, "There are 5 (or 2) callers ahead of you. Your call will be answered in the order in which it was received. Your call will be answered in approximately 2 (or 3) minutes." Well, I don't know what system of time that bureaucracy is running on but I lost 5 hours of my life, one hour at a time, on hold. The T was also calling and while she was on hold on her cell phone, she called from the landline. The message on the landline descended from there are 6 callers ahead of you, to 5 to 4, etc., until there was only 1 ahead of her. Since she was still on hold on the cell phone, shouldn't that have been the 1 person ahead of her on the landline?!?

Here's an added twist to the drama: I sold the car to a friend of mine who I met in the state in question. She later followed the trail I had blazed to Pt. A and is now returning to the state with the mind-numbing bureaucracy and stringent car registration and insurance laws. So she is going to try and register the vehicle in that state once again. I don't think she'll have a problem though, really. How can I say such a thing? Because that state had the wrong vehicle identification number (VIN) on record for the 7 years I lived there and I didn't find out until I could not register the car in this state! That's how I know! The title I held on the car was in no way related to the car in my driveway because some dweeb typed it in wrong. My proof of auto insurance and my car title had two different VIN and guess which one was wrong. Yup, the state. I'm not complaining, though, considering that this is the same group of folks who changed The T's sex on her license from the fairer sex to the less-fair sex when all she did was renew her license. Thank gaia the motor vehicle drones in Pt. A didn't notice that one, eh? "You would like to register your vehicle today and come out of the closet as a transsexual?"

3) While this adventure rolls along, The T and I went off to a conference/retreat focused on ... hmmm ... let's call it Johnny Can Add But We Haven't Figured Out How to Assess It Yet. Let's be very clear on one thing, folks: the kids can do the math. It is not a question of some can and some can't and that's OK because we can't all do everything. That's bullhockey. People can do math. No matter their age. It's the systems we have to work in as teachers and students and administrators that beats the drum and beats the beauty out of the field and beats the curiosity out of the individual and makes mathphobia an accepted social ailment.

The T was at this retreat in her guise as a educator wonk designing/working on a grant to address mathematics and science in middle and high schools. I was there in the role as a tertiary ed math prof who has agreed to be a partner on said grant. That was kind of fun, being able to work with The T in a professional way. If nothing else, I now understand what it is that she does for a living. And I have a better grasp of education initiatives out there that are trying to help folks who want to help those who are trying to learn the math. I say again, let's be clear on one thing: the kids can do the math. The folks teaching them need resources and support and need to know they are valued as part of the solution to solving issues in improving mathematics achievement. Those that contribute to perpetuating mathphobia because they themselves suffer from it (whether or not they know it) need resources and support so their teaching can improve.

OK, I'm getting down from the soapbox (how did I get up there anyway?). The retreat was great and—coming on the heels of my visit to Pt. B and my being bureaucratized by the man—it was just what I needed to feel good about being in the field of education.

More later, gang. I have to go mail off some paperwork to the wonks.

How far we've come

I don't understand why DOS needed to be emulated via JAVA but it was fun to play with.

While I'm away....

I'm off to a 3-day workshop that's going to get another gadget in my hands. bwa-ha-ha I am so excited. I will do (almost) anything to acquire a new toy. Currently in my drawer I have four Palm PDAs, three iPods, a GPS unit, a Mac iBook and G3 lappie, as well as a G3 and G5 desktop computer. I also have three graphing calculators, an old school mechanical calculator, an abacus, and four slide rules. Don't argue with me that a slide rule is not a gadget. Any item that comes with a manual that consists of bound pages rather that just stapled sheets has got to be a gadget.

Anyway, the goody I will acquire this week is a new TI-Nspire. How can you not drool when you see this thing? It can do so much that it comes with two keyboards! This bi-faceplate issue is the driving force behind the workshop. Me thinks this gadget has a big brain and if I tried to figure it out on my own I would only scrape the surface—and probably not very much of it. I can't wait to see what tricks this thing can do.


While I'm away, I thought I would leave you with an online game to help fill up your time. I will introduce it to you the same way it was introduced to me: with no directions on how to play. Please give it a whirl and see how many attempts you need to figure it out. The link I have is for a site that reviews games so the writer does give some clues about how to play as he explains what he likes about the game. If you want to try it with no foreknowledge, click the link and play Gimme Friction Baby before you read the whole review. The game designer said he thought adding directions would take away from the simplicity of the game and they are not really needed anyhow. It is a casual game, so no time limits or pressure to kill or be killed. I've lost hours of my life to this game and my high score is only 29 while my average is in the very low single digits. Have a good time.

In the background while I type this is a podcast of A Way With Words. Yes, we digit-heads love words too and this public radio show is a hoot. The focus is words and language and etymology and puns and grammar. I mention it now for two reasons. The first is that I do not think a lot of affiliates have picked it up yet and, besides the four podcasters that listen, everyone who calls in is from San Diego or Wisconsin. I'm trying to expand the listenership. The second reason I mention it is that as I'm trying to concentrate on typing, a few phrases made it through to my gray matter:
Books never crash. And you can use them in the tub.
I was wondering if they were metrosexual, but didn't know if I was allowed to say that on the radio.
The Macaroni Club—completely metrosexual. With lots of product in their hair.

OK, so it may sound like they drifted from the topic there but they were on task. The lyrics to Yankee Doodle were under analysis. I'll leave the rest for you to think about. I was actually a caller on this show once and if you want to know why "a whole nother" sounds more legitimate than it looks, post a question.

Look what I found

For more info, click the links.

Item 1: What are you doing on August 28th at about 3 A.M. PST? If you're calendar is free, you might want to go outside and watch the moon turn red. No, the rapture hasn't been scheduled. There's going to be a cool eclipse event that turns the moon red instead of rendering it invisible. It will be visible across north America. You east coasters might miss the end because the sun will rise before the event is over but it's still worth getting out of bed for, eh? Don't call me. I'll be outside.



Item 2: Who said math wasn't useful?
Things I have learned from surfing this morning:
1. a handy conversion: 60,000 pieces of card stock = a fractal creation
2. Obsessions come in degrees. My colleagues laughed at me when I finished an online course in record time just to get the free graphing calculator, but I don't think my 4-1/2 day obsession compares to what this woman has done.
3. There is an Institute for Figuring. What a great name. Those of you who took enough math may recall that iff is math shorthand for if and only if. And now IFF stands for this institute as well. Cool. Those of you who know any grammar are twitching right now because the phrase if and only if a preposition ends with. Those of you who have ever traveled to Tatooine know only Yoda can get away with that type of verbage.

Item 3: Is the heat getting to you?
A nice trim might cool you off. And what else are you keeping under that outfit?



Item 4: Stop playing with your food!
What do you get when a number of obsessions collide, one of which is art and another is chocolate? You get edible shoes, that's what. The drool on my keyboard is not because of the heels, I'll tell you that much.

Item 5: I wished I'd known that sooner
Yes, the housing market is cooling—if for no other reason than mortgage companies have created a population of homeless, bankrupt individuals who played the lottery via an adjustable rate mortgage and lost when they couldn't make ends meet (oh, if they'd only paid attention in math class)—yet here are some helpful tips if you're looking to buy.

I love this one: When house hunting don't be too wary of the Harley parked in front of the house across the street, it might turn out to be owned by really friendly lesbians!

Item 6: I need one of these
Nothing like letting your inner geek shine through with a tattoo. Nerd Be Proud.

How do you know when it's done?