MY THEORY OF RELATIVITY

MY THEORY OF RELATIVITY

Not in my brain!

No matter how you look at it, Math is Math! You can turn page after page in a child’s Arithmetic book and find Math!

Algebra, Trigonometry, and all those other fancy, sophisticated titles are still MATH!

To some, no matter what degree of higher education they seek, Math is a piece of cake, something to be enjoyed.

Then, there are those like me. To us, Math is and always will be a problem!

Hey, a problem! Isn’t that what our old Arithmetic examples are now called? “Problems”?

Back in grade school, I remember my teacher saying we had “examples to do for homework.” Nowadays you hear, “you have problems to solve.” Look, I have enough problems to solve on a daily basis. I don’t need Math “problems” to make my life more complicated.

I can handle the addition, subtractions, multiplication, and division of numbers. Bookkeeping ledgers aren’t difficult, either. I can read a ruler, a compass, and even find my way using a waterway chart. But when it comes to adding number and letters, my brain comes to a screeching halt!

Somewhere in my massive and complex brain pattern, a microchip short-circuited leaving me with very few math skills.

While many of you might be saying, “I can relate to that,” toss a bit more sympathy in my direction. Why? How’s this for irony? MY MOTHER TAUGHT MATH FOR 37 YEARS!

Okay, so now you’re probably wondering why she didn’t teach me. Believe me, she tried! She taught well in every subject imaginable: English, Spelling, Social Studies, and other subjects important to get me through life. But Math? I’m sure Mom’s head suffered many bruises from banging it again the wall in frustration.

How well I remember Mom’s pride when at five-years old, I recited the five-times and two-times tables. While I didn’t actually “understand” the subject, at least I sounded like I did. Memorization was the beginning of knowing – or so I thought!

In the early grades, addition and subtraction made sense. If you have two apples and someone gave you two more, how many would you have? If another someone took away three of those applies, what is left? Hah! Easy!

Once in the fourth grade, I aced a Math test – no let me rephrase that. I aced an Arithmetic test by knowing how to add and subtract fractions.

At first, I found fractions a bit confusing, but thanks to my dad, the confusion didn’t last long. You see, dad was a carpenter and reading measurements came as easy to him as writing his name.

He realized that once I was able to read a ruler, I’d know how to solve my fraction problems. He was right – to an extent.

It was more than obvious that ½ plus ½ equaled one as did ¼ plus ¾ - thanks to the ruler theory.

Fifth grade math was more challenging. Opening my so-called Arithmetic book, I realized fractions could be broken down into decimal points and percentages. So much for the ruler theory.

The first ones were easy: 1/10, 10% as well as 0.1 were fine. I had no issues. Those so-called “problems” began after I mastered the 10, 20, 30, etc. percentages. That’s when my teacher became finicky and decided to delve further. She now expected her class to learn how to convert fractions such as 1/8, 2/3, etc. into those decimals and percentages. How cruel! Again, so much for the ruler theory!

At that second, I thought I heard a loud snap, a popping sound – something like the popping of a circuit breaker shorting out. I’m sure if my brain had been robotic in nature, it would have definitely screamed, OVERLOAD!

Algebra seemed simple enough and not much different than my old familiar Arithmetic. I saw only one difference. In Algebra “X” replaced the question mark normally found in Arithmetic. 100+50=?. 100+50=X. Same thing, right?

However, my eighth grade Algebra, in no way, prepared me for ninth grade Math.

As soon as I opened my textbook, I felt like I’d gone into serious shock!

Some unknown, diabolical, devious prankster played the worst joke imaginable. He (or she) changed the formula. No longer did two plus two equal four. The new “problem” read something like two plus (M2) = X.

HUH? M2? I was positive the M did not represent the Roman numeral 1000, so what, then did the “M” represent? I found myself lost – with a capital “L.”

Mom tried to explain. I gave her a blank stare.

Although I can’t be sure, as there is no proof, I do suspect that the reason my Math teacher transferred to another school was to get as far away from me as possible. I was NOT a teacher’s challenge. I was a TEACHER’S NIGHTMARE!

Finally, through desperation, I convinced the principal of my school to allow me to switch majors. Leave the academics behind to take on the simpler commercial studies. Shorthand, typing, bookkeeping and such were right up my ally. Without a problem, I earned a whopping 90% in the bookkeeping regents exams.

Do I ever regret my decision to switch majors? Do I ever wonder about the “what-ifs” if I’d stuck with those academics? Could I have ever mastered Einstein’s MC2 theory?

My answers are respectively, NO, NO and a definitely NEVER!!

After all, the last time I looked in the mirror, I knew without a doubt that Einstein and I are NOT, never have been and never will be related!

And that is as simple to understand as two plus two equals four (I hope!)