No Math

Days 1 & 2

Every grade-school kid asks the same question the first time math trips him up like the neighborhood bully: “Why do I need to learn math? I won't need it when I’m older.”

Well, I’m definitely older so I guess I qualify to see if you really do need math. I think I may win one for kids everywhere with this week's assignment!

Granted, writers, to paraphrase Bobby Knight, do something everyone else learned in first grade and then moved on to bigger things. Writers run screaming from math the way statisticians sprint from novels. We both ask the same question: What’s the point?

The first two days of my (relaxing!) week prove the grade-schoolers' point, for the most part. In fact, the only people making me using math are kids themselves. Don't these kids realize I'm "suffering" for them? They'll thank me later.

My son Daniel and his friend have been playing the board game "Phillies Monopoly" and on two occasions have needed me to calculate the cost of doubling the rent for landing on "Chase Utley" and "Shane Victorino."

Otherwise, that's it. I had to hand over five $1 bills to pay for food at Wawa. That hardly qualifies as math since three-year-olds can count to five just as easily as they sing along to Barney's theme--and that's not music.

I'm sure math is planning to sneak up on me in the ensuing days and pummel me with algorithms and logarithms and jazzarhythms and all. Too bad I won't recognize what they are anyway.

Day 3

In college, a friend and I made a bet: if Paul took an English course for a semester, I'd take an Accounting course and we'd see who did better. Not being the brightest gamblers, we never determined the prize. That would have involved math, I think, so I couldn't be bothered.

I'm reminded of that mainly because he reminded me of it all these years later when I told him about my week without math. Seems I never got around to that Accounting course, though he took the English course with me (and got a better grade). Now, he's the grand poobah of grand poobahs at a place where no one can go two minutes without math, if only because their financial planners are calling them to talk about their retirement castles in Spain.

I write about stupid things I do. I showed him.

The reasons I stayed away from an Accounting course that would have crushed me were plentiful: It was second semester senior year, the days were sunny, it involved math, I was on a pretty good intramural softball team, and, um, did I mention it was awfully sunny that spring?

Not taking Accounting then hasn't hurt me, and not doing math this week hasn't, either. Though I did cause someone else a little pain.

Colleen, a neighborhood friend--and current high school math teacher--audibly gasped when she found out what I'm doing. "That's not possible," she said defiantly. I think I broke her math-teacher spirit.

"Why not? What do I need math for?" I asked, playing the defiant schoolkid.

"Everything," she said. Noticing my son's in-progress "Phillies Monopoly" game on the table, she pointed and said, "A-ha!"--and yes, people do still say, A-ha!--"if you were playing Monopoly you needed math."

I admitted to the error of my ways from yesterday. "But that's it. Otherwise, really nothing."

A few questions later, she conceded my point--for me at least. For her, it'd be impossible; she said she does math in her head all the time, playing around with numbers whenever she sees them.

She also revealed what strikes me as a good litmus test for whether someone is a words person or a numbers person. When she's behind a car, she'll add, divide, or multiply the numbers on the license plate, noodling around with different combinations. I told her I only look at the letters on the plate and try to see how many words I can spell.

I'm not sure which is worse: stiffing Paul on the Accounting course I owed him years ago, or admitting to the games I play now with license plates.

Day 4

I endured a love/hate relationship with math at the start. Assigned to memorize the multiplication tables in third grade, I procrastinated, thinking math might go away. It worked for me with eggs; after I got sick trying them the first time, I never had to eat them again.

The egg approach failed with math because I couldn’t figure out how to throw up while studying. My mom ended my delay game by sitting me at the little kids' table one Sunday afternoon and forcing me to stay there until I memorized everything from 1x1 to 12x12.

Persistence--mostly my mom's--paid off, though, and I won the next day's class math bee. I loved math for all of 11 seconds until I was handed my prize. A rectangular pink eraser, the kind that teachers loved to give out and kids loved to throw at teachers.

"All of that studying for this?" I thought. The math hate was back.

I felt a little bit hateful Wednesday so I turned to math for comfort. An accident turned I-95 into a parking lot on my trip to a Phillies game. By the time I'd exited and re-routed through Philly, I calculated that my expected 35-minute ride turned into a "3-hour tour." With no Mary Ann or Ginger along for the ride. Doing the math helped a little. A very little.

Days 5 & 6

Friday, I compared prices while shopping for snacks. Fritos vs. Lay's potato chips--$2.99 for the 9. oz. delicious Fritos vs. $3.39 for the 11 oz. solid, dependable Lay's....Decisions, decisions.

And that's when I realized math is like water. You don't pay any attention to it until you go without. It's sneaky like that.

My shopping faux pas made me extra conscious the rest of Friday and into Saturday. Which led to another problem: how do I count my sit-ups without using math? Is it too literal to say counting to 50 is doing math? I'm not happy with the way my no-math week is making me think so much about math.

To be safe I decided to use the alphabet, which turned out to be as smart as tying boots with gloves on. It's confusing to figure out how close you are to 50 using a 26-letter alphabet. How many is G the second time through? What letter is 24th after you've counted through the alphabet once? How long have I been at this? Now I’ve lost track—how many did I do after I tried to figure out what number G is?

It’s hard to finish strong by telling myself “Go to P” which only makes things more confusing.

Day 7

It's easy to avoid math even when you pay the bills. On Sunday I simply wrote the checks, wrote the amounts in the checkbook, and I'll worry about balancing the checkbook later. Maybe. My dad the banker read that and just fell out of his chair in horror.

However, I will concede that math wins the battle this week. Sorry, kids, but you do need at least basic math skills. How else can you play Monopoly? Or count change? Or eventually balance your checkbook? Maybe.

Actually, I don't know if math won: Who was keeping score?