I'm bidding goodbye to 1958 for now. After I had finished my weeks of logrolling, the chapter sections on logarithmic scales and exponential graphs were too archaic even for me. The slide rule was the best you could get back then, logarithmic scale and all. I realized, perusing this relic, that though slide rules are cool and retro is metro, (huh?) it began to be counterproductive for me not to work with calculator and computer. Whatever I will be doing with my math and science in the future, it will inevitably involve these technologies, not a slide rule. It may eventually be important for me to learn computer programming. Don't ask me why; I'm supposed to be a middle-aged dilettante here.

I have two other books to teach me logarithmic scales and exponential functions. One is from 1994, a college text which I picked up from a very discount book catalog, and it has been useful to me in the past. I'll call this one the "White Paul Klee" book, since its white cover is centered with a very nice geometric abstraction by Paul Klee. The other is yet another Barron's high school study guide, which I used to re-learn algebra some years ago. This Barron's, from 1996, features the same pathetic little "Ruritanian" fantasy characters who attempted to teach me trigonometry last year. I don't think I'll stay too long with them, but the book is at least bigger (larger print) and more readable than 1958. And both these books have plenty of problem sets for me to work on.

Problems problems problems. As I said before, how can I know I've learned something unless I've solved problems with it? I spent hours and hours doing the logarithm problems in 1958. Every time I solved one, my reward was to get another, which was more complex and convoluted than the previous one. This progression of increasingly difficult problems is such a basic part of doing math that I believe that this must reflect the ultimate underlying structure of our lives on earth. You start on simple problems, then they get harder and harder and harder as we grow older. I have never found a problem set where the authors, in order to have fun or trip up the unsuspecting student, place an easy, simple problem towards the end of the list.

This is why I don't look too far ahead in my studies. Often times my Friendly Mathematicians or Scientists, in their eagerness to share what they know and to teach me, offer me something which is just a little too far ahead of what I am currently doing. Or more than a little too far ahead. It seems simple to them, but it freaks me out. I seize up, like a computer asked to do too many things at once. The same thing happens to me when I look too far ahead in one of my math or physics books and magazines. Arggh! I'll never be able to learn that!

This is where my age and lack of "math/science talent" shows. If I were younger, much younger, like those brilliant teenagers I read about so often in science/math writing, I would be leaping about my math program like an Olympic gymnast on the tumbling floor. I would do my problems swiftly and impatiently, and grasp concepts in a flash. I'd be far ahead of where I am now, given the same amount of time spent.

But that's not what my math path is like. I'm just slow. I assimilate new information and ideas slowly, one bit at a time, like an old, very slow modem. I hack my way through problems one at a time, like the Capricornian goat picking its way up the slope rather than the Sagittarian arrow speeding to its goal. (Disclaimer: I don't believe in astrology, I'm only using this as a metaphor, and I am neither a Capricorn nor a Sagittarian.)

I try to tell my preceptors this, and they don't quite understand. Maybe this is because most of them are younger than I am, and talented professionals in their fields. Why don't I just move on to more complex mathematics and more physics? I answer that I go so slow because I want to make sure I know what has gone before, and be familiar with it, before I move on to that frightening new thing.

This works for me, but it just doesn't work very fast. Confidence is always an issue here. Only when I am no longer spooked by seeing strange numbers and symbols in front of me will I know that it is time to move on to new strange numbers and symbols. Until that time, I will continue my low-baud-rate ways,
one
problem
at
a
time.

Posted at 2:20 am | link