"Take That, Ms. Thornburgh"

 I'll openly admit I'm the worst when it comes to 'Houdini math'. It's the kind of stuff that should only be learned by rocket scientists and geeks. I barely made it through math in grade school; could never figure out why I couldn't subtract a larger number from a smaller one and then when the teachers told us about fractions I wanted to jump off a ten story building.

In 1959 I transferred from the Catholic school to the public one. My very first 9th grade class was Algebra with Ms. Thornburgh who, by the way, was the mother of Methusalah. Her first name was Vaughn and she was what a little kid would call scarier than Mrs. Frankenstein's daughter. When she wanted to emphasize a point she'd take a bony finger and jab my shoulder. Plus, when she put her face down close to me she'd burp what smelled like bacon. She passed me through because----------I don't know why.

I do have to be honest with you. Once and only once I attempted to use what little algebra knowledge I had in my chosen field. It was `1971 and I was coaching a game in Storm Lake Iowa. There were 15 seconds left to play and we were behind one point with the ball and I called a time out. I got the boys in a huddle to draw up the last play on my chalkboard. I vividly remember the play even after all these years: 5-x6y-4(xl to the power of 9). It didn't work.

I'm still trying to understand why, at the age of 76, my life succeeded without Algebra I, Algebra II, Geometry, and Calculus but it has.