The past is sometimes a lie
Last week I needed to renew my registration, walked into a California Department of Motor Vehicles office carrying prepared paperwork I'd downloaded, took a number, and 16 minutes later I was done. I thought of calling an ambulance to meet me and my aneurysm outside, but I survived.Once, in Massachusetts, I spent seven hours at a DMV. Once, in New York, I spent six hours at a DMV, doing the same thing that took me 16 minutes last week.
This morning I went to a gas station with three banks of double-sided filling islands. Only the island I'd parked near (x) had no number. I quickly looked at the visible numbers as I approached the cashier. It looked like this:

I asked the cashier if I could have $20 on (x=Pump 7).
In seventh grade I was confident that I would never use algebra in everyday life. And I am still correct; if that were an algebra problem, I would be credited $20 at the nonexistent Pump 6 and 1/9.
Instead, I used analogies. Thanks again, tenth grade English teacher Sheila Hallissy! First you taught me Antony's Funeral Oration, now you're saving me cash on gas!
See also: Stopping by Brutus on a Snowy Evening
Labels: abstractions, california, education, los angeles, massachusetts



