Mystic Tree

This Is Interesting

An email I received from a friend the other day made me think about math. It had a list of 10
names that could be a role model to you.The 9th name was my friends name . In order to get your role model's name (number) you had to go through several steps of calculations. Of course it was set up for my friends name which was # 9 on the list. Ordinarily I shy away from stuff like this because math makes my head hurt. I have always struggled with it being easily distracted. Oddly enough during my time working at Sears the personnel manager called me to his office one day and said my aptitude scores indicated I was good with math(go figure ) and asked me if I would be interested in working in the pay roll office. I still can not figure out where he got that crazy idea but I decided to do it. Well, I lasted about 8 months (mainly because no one else wanted to replace me) but I digress.

Selecting your role model worked like this.
(1)select a number (from 1to 9)
(2) multiply by 3
(3) add 3
(4) multiply by 3 again
(5) add the 2 digits

I then realized that all of the numbers you might pick (1 through 9) caused the the same result .
1x3=3+3=6x3=18 1+8=9
2x3=6+3=9x3=27 2+7=9
3x3=9+3=12x3=36 3+6=9
4x3=12+3=15x3=45+4+5=9
5x3=15+3=18x3=54+5+4=9
6x3=18+3=21x3=63 6 +3=9
7x3=21+3=24x3=72 7+2=9
8x3=24+3=27x3=81 8+1=9
9x3=27+3=30x3=90 9+0=9
notice how the first and second sums increase by 3 the 3rd by 9 . What is
even more fascinating is that they all produce numbers that add up to 9
I still don't like math but this is interesting

Merry Charistmas from Dian

Precision spin

My love of music goes back a long way. In High School I was of course in the band . We were pretty good (or so I thought at the time) but we were full of ourselves too! We marched in several parades but I remember one when the sousaphone players got the bright idea of doing a 360 degree spin periodically while we were marching but not playing. They timed it very well ,so the spin occurred at the same place, during the cymbal crash of the drum cadence. It was pretty flashy so our the band director (the revered Mr. Calvert) went along with it reluctantly.All went well until we approached the review stand . This is the location of all the events officials, including the ones who judge the best units in the parade. We smartly strutted past the stand and then the disaster struck. As the sousaphone rank got right opposite the stand, they executed their precision spin but a bell (top) of one of the instruments flew off . As if that wasn't bad enough it landed behind us, as they were the last rank, hitting the street at an angle and proceeding to spin for what seemed like an eternity. The player sheepishly retrieved it and rushed to catch up with us. Needless to say they never did their precision spin again.

neighborhood

a new day begins in our neighborhood

another Couples photo 1980s

Holidays continued

Happy Holidays

Jazz Greats Continued

Reading plan

Finishing this



Just Starting this

Main Street

For me finishing a book is always a bitter sweet experience, a mixture of letdown and satisfaction . Having just completed Main Street (Sinclair Lewis) there was more balance between the two this time.Maybe it was the afterwards
analyzing the story that softened the letdown.

The book was written in 1920 . It is a novel that follows an "emancipated woman" through the early 1900's as she tries to socially reform a
small mid western town . After years of frustration and failure she decides to leave . Ending up in Washington DC for two years , she discovers it is too late for her to be a revolutionary and returns to except her husband and the town on their terms .
The book can be read in different ways as it is written as an allegory on exile and return . I found it interesting read as an historical novel. Here is an example of its great evocative detail.



Under the stilly boughs and the black gauze of dusk the street was meshed in silence. There was but a hum of motor tires crunching the road, the creak of a rocker on the Howlands' porch, the slap of a hand attacking a mosquito, a heat - weary conversation starting and dying, the precise rhythm of crickets, the thud of moths against the screen-sounds that were a distilled silence.It was a street beyond the end of the world , beyond the boundaries of hope. Though she should sit here forever ,no brave procession, no one who was interesting , would be coming by. It was tediousness made tangible,a street builded of lassitude and of futility.

Although sorry the story is finished I look forward to absorbing another classic soon.

the voice!

everyone wants in the act

They're Here!

It is hard to believe but Seasonal ales are here again. Cheers!

I will never forget this!

a new day dawns

The gems never dim at youtube!

Guess where!