“Keep Reeling It In” (Line from: “On Golden Pond” 1981)

My youngest grandson is obsessed with fishing.  He has no problem putting the worm on a hook, neither casting nor later, after reeling in his catch, taking the hook carefully out of the fishes’ mouth before throwing it back into the water.  There is no denying the joy he experiences while practicing the art of catching fish.  One day this past August, I took him into the city of Brighton, Michigan to a favorite spot for young fishermen.  Alongside and over the meandering river and wetland in the center of town, walkers have easy access to bridges and paths lined by geranium filled pots … a peaceful setting.  But, fishing with Cameron, is not a “Norman Rockwell” event, but instead, he is an aggressive tracker of fish.  His actions bring to mind Billy, the young boy Norman Thayer (Henry Fonda) in “On Golden Pond” taught how to fish as they pursued the “big fish” Walter. 

On this particular summer day, Cameron caught sight of a “humongous” (his word) catfish.  Once the fish was in his line of vision, there was no stopping the chase.  We were up and down the walkway with the fish controlling our stride.  At the top of the bridge, I peered over the handrail admiring the size of the fish (since it had momentarily paused) while Cameron quickly dropped his line in the water. 

“Grandma,” he said, “I’m having a heart attack.”

“What?”

“A heart attack,” he repeated.  “Every time I see that fish my heart beats so hard I think I’m having a heart attack.”

I wanted to laugh but he was so serious that I managed to keep my emotion hidden.  I realized that the moment, him sharing his truth, was a privilege – special.

You may be wondering how this fishing story connects to my past week of Physics?   My basic algebra skills were learned years ago and long forgotten.  I have had serious doubts if I would ever catch on to the abstractness of letters representing numbers.  Each time I tried to work the math conversions and computations, I tensed up.  During this past week, I went twice for tutoring at the library spending a couple of hours each session.  I also reread the beginning chapters of the text and completed the questions and experiments at the end of each section.  My last thoughts before sleep included words like velocity, acceleration, speed, time, scientific notation, all swirling in the murky waters before dozing off.

 Today, I finished two pages of physics story problems.   I was able to work every formula.  I actually plugged the correct calculations in the right order to solve two pages of math.  I have a dear friend who teases me when I make a life mistake by reminding me that even a fish can’t get caught if it does not open its’ mouth.  Well, apparently some part of my brain has opened; for the moment, I’ve caught the physics fish.

“Good God!  It’s Walter!” *

My heart is thumping like a “heart attack”. 

From “On Golden Pond” 1981:

“Good God! It's Walter!

What the hell you doin' here, you son of a bitch?

Oh! Keep that line tight, boy!

Oh, you beauty. Keep your line tight.

Keep reeling in.

Little closer. Little closer. Oh, look at that!” 

She's on to Something ... "Village Idiot" (Van Morrison)

I’ve received one week of physics instruction.  On the first day, I entered the lab and quickly noticed every seat was occupied with the exception of one in the back row.  After taking the seat, I sized up the group.  Clearly, I am the oldest.  My past experience (working for years in a high school) allowed me to fairly accurately identify the majority of attendees as eighteen-year-olds. 

Class began with a long dissertation presented by our instructor on class protocol.   A full five minutes was allotted to the need to turn off cell phones while class is in session.  Students are not allowed to use their laptops either; apparently in the last semester, there was an epidemic of facebook and email access during lectures with the consequence of numerous failures.  The teacher then continued to explain the university electronic communication system, Blackboard.   Upon finishing he asked:  “Are there any questions?  Has everyone here accessed Blackboard?”

Silence.  Not one word was uttered.  After what seemed to be a full, uncomfortable minute, he turned directly to me, made eye contact – along with most of the other student eyeballs (those that had not glazed over into a stupor) - and asked me, “Miss, do you understand how to use Blackboard?”

I am thinking:  What ... are the words “village idiot” tattooed across my forehead?  I felt a flush of warmth take a strangle hold through the neck area before creeping up to my cheekbones.  Geez – this is going to be fun.  I had not accessed the communication system but do you think I wanted to ask a question … with all eyes on me? 

“No,” I responded, “but, I’ll figure it out.” 

I promise I kept the sarcastic edge out of my voice.  In my heart, I believed the neon tattoo was not the words” village idiot” but instead, AGE.  I wanted to be a smart aleck and announce:  Why yes, I’ve taken this course forty times and I am still struggling!  For certain, my competitive spirit was awakened as the teacher continued by announcing that we will be graded on the “Bell curve”, I was secretly plotting how much study time I needed to put in so as to blow these kids out of the water. 

Okay, settle down, an inner voice reproached, be nice. 

The truth is:  I will have a lot of studying to do.  Although the metric system is the system of choice in the world (even in the U.S. metrics is the quantitative system of science and international commerce) I have resisted learning.  I have not even acknowledged the need.  Well, that fantasy is over; to complete the math necessary for this class, I have to know it.

Students were assigned lab partners for our first assignment.  Mine is an exuberant young man who was thrilled to show me the ropes of math computation.   Upon completion of this preliminary project, this whippersnapper signed “our” lab with a flourish while stating:  “I’ll help you with any math questions.”  He slid the paper to me and as I signed my name to the sheet, I knew that I had no idea what “we” had just completed. 

After class I walked (no, the truth is I sprinted) across the campus to the tutorial learning lab located in the library.  My shoulders were tight and the math anxiety knot in the pit of my stomach was tightening.   Signing up for help was emotionally uncomfortable.  I was embarrassed as I asked the young man behind the desk, “Do you have a person who could tutor me in physics?” 

He flipped through a few papers on a clipboard checking which tutors were on duty before answering, “I can’t help you but Sheng-Li is in the lab.  He’s assisting another person right now, if you don’t mind waiting, he will be able to help.”  He pointed toward the glass door, “Inside each table is labeled with the subject.  He will come to you.” 

In the far corner of the room, there was the word “Physics” printed in bold type on a card that dangled from a string fastened to the ceiling.  Each time the lab door opened, the card gently swayed.   I took my seat at the empty table.  As I waited my turn, I considered the many students I had sent for remedial help as an English teacher.  A lot of them must have felt what I was feeling.  Asking for help is humbling; there is a component of self doubt – a self questioning of personal ability.  A bit of panic set in.

What am I doing? There is the possibility to drop the course and receive a full refund if I take this action by next Monday.   

Sheng-Li interrupted my thoughts, “You have a physics question?”  He asked before taking the seat next to me.

I nodded and blurted, “I attended my first class and I am overwhelmed.  I do not know the metric system.  I have never converted numbers to a Scientific Notation, “I paused to take a breath.

He quietly considered me before reacting to my outburst, “You will be fine.  You will like using metrics.  The system is beautiful.  How many inches are there in a foot?”

“Twelve,” I said relieved that I could answer this first question.

“How many inches in a yard?”

“Thirty-six.”

“Twelve, thirty-six … messy, messy, messy,” he smiled as he talked. “You will love the metric system.  You can work with large numbers and always have the perfectly easy zero to manipulate.  It is elegant.”  As he said this, his arms opened, extending out from his body as if encompassing the entirety of the Milky Way galaxy.  I got the impression that he believed if he could convince me, I would be able to consider the mysteries of the universe.

He proceeded to tell me that I could master this unit of measurement.  Not only that, but I would be able to convert a number to a Scientific Notation with a simple two-step process.  He knew that I would find using the powers of 10 clear, concise and neat.   I liked him.  He actually blushed when speaking to me; perhaps at his enthusiasm or perhaps because in the Chinese culture conversing to me with such exuberance – a person he considered an elder – made him uncomfortable.

“You can do this,” he affirmed.  “You are a competent person.  Put the study time in and you will be successful.” 

That brief fifteen minutes with Sheng-Li gave me confidence.  I left the library feeling good.  Normal people can master physics. Later that evening, upon reflection, I began to question why I could not relax and simply enjoy learning.  Why do I have to be at the top of the class? In the past, I had set up a scenario for success … I am heavily weighted in the humanities because I only took classes in which I could stand out. As a retired person, I no longer need to prove anything.  There is no reason to feel competitive (if there ever really was one).   

Then I had an epiphany… also at the crux of my insecurity was my inability to accept age; to be specific, my age.  There are advantages, aside from the senior tuition discount; I am at a place in life where I can learn for the joy of knowing.   This is an elegant thought.

On Thursday, the second session of class, I was surprised that there were only fifteen of us present.  Apparently, I was not the only person intimidated.  I sat down in the half empty third row with a sense of pride … pride that I had decided not to quit.  (I also reconsidered how many hours of study it would take to excel – ah; some traits are going to take more work to put aside.)

That night, as I listened to a Van Morrison song; his mellow, rich, gravelly voice captured my heart and mind.

Village idiot, simple mind
Village idiot, he does know something
But he's just not saying

Don't you know he's onto something
You can see it, you can see it in his eyes
Sometimes he looks so happy
As he goes strolling by

Oh village idiot, he's complicated
Village idiot, he's got a simple mind
Village idiot, must know something
But he's just not saying

(Lyrics from Village Idiot written/performed by Van Morrison)

“Glazed Over Eyes Never Lie” (Secret Lives!)*

I must admit that my smug satisfaction upon learning of reduced tuition for senior citizens was short lived after completing the registration process.  Lab fees and the cost of textbooks caused a misstep (an actual tripping) in my spirited ballet.  (Yes, I am referring to last weeks’ entry to you; the one complete with bagpipes and the dance of the Highland fling at the delight of saving money.)   To be clear:  the two classes I chose are tied to the two most expensive lab fees.  And, lab fees are not discounted.

Belatedly, I discovered that used textbooks can be acquired on Amazon.com with a less costly price tag than the used volumes I found at the college bookstore.  A person would want to make the purchase in plenty of time before the class began to allow for the inexpensive standard shipping rate that may take 7 – 10 days to arrive.  Buying a new book on Amazon (for either course) was the same price or more depending on vendor.  Since the introduction to physics curriculum begins within a week, I did not want to take the chance of attending the first day without the text.   

After reading the first chapter of the physics text, I recognized that I must get familiar with the metric system.  In the past, I have resisted this.  Another noteworthy point is that I am afraid of math.  Instead of offering you the lengthy rationalization of why I have math anxiety, suffice to know that I am determined to relax in this area with the intent to be trained.  I had to laugh when the book explained that using proper math symbols will reduce the need to repeat myself and offered the ability to be accurate, clear and brief. 

In the past (my children will readily attest to this) I have witnessed a glazed over look when I “over” talked.  I once had a friend ask:  “Is this going to be a conversation during which my eyes are going to roll back in my head?”   Ouch!  I would like to be elegantly simple when speaking and writing.  Perhaps, using the conciseness of math as a guide will help me be clear when communicating.  The scientific approach, I believe, will enrich life; not only for me, but for those people I love.    

For example, if I would have taken the time to do my homework before purchasing textbooks (observation, data collection), I could have saved enough money to buy a decent bottle of wine and invite friends over for dinner.   (I will not have this excuse for long so you need to hold me to the invite.) 

If you’ve started to glaze over while reading or if your eyeballs are in full roll-back tilt, next week I promise to be quantitatively succinct.  At some point, I am finding out, it is good to pause for breath instead of continually blowing through my “bagpipes”.

*Amusing to me is that although I like the lyrics of “Glazed over Eyes Never Lie”, I could not understand one word of this song when performed by the hard rock group Secret Lives!  My grown children have expressed that some of my lectures to them, when they were young, evoked the same confusion.

Bagpipes : )

 “And yet, it just won’t go away:

I feel it and cannot understand it;

Cannot hold on to it,

Nor yet forget it;

And if I grasp it wholly,

I cannot measure it!”  - Richard Wagner

(Wagner’s words copied from intro panel of Roger Jones’ book. *)

This week, I am registering for classes.  I am thrilled to learn that senior citizens receive major tuition discounts (my vanity caused my fingers to hover - actually hesitated - over the key pad before typing the word senior).  At University of Michigan, I can take all the classes I want for a flat rate of $2,000.00.  A person 65 or older may do the same at U of M for $1,000.  Wayne State University allows a seventy-five percent discount.  Ah, my Scottish heritage kicks in when I hear tidings such as these motivating me to make several calls.  Each university contacted has such programs, different, but like U of M, lower costs for tuition thus giving me several choices of where to complete my beginning courses.  I am looking for introductory levels in both astronomy and physic making a community college a possibility.  But, I want an interesting, exciting class – both Wayne State and University of Michigan have their own planetariums.  For me, there is nothing worse than listening to a lackluster presentation coupled with makeshift labs that do not seem real.  Still, I may take the community college route to build confidence.

I desire to come out of this first term with an understanding of the basic elements that link me (and ultimately culture) with science (I’ve chosen to spotlight astronomy and physics).  Oh perhaps, if I am intrigued enough in a particular area, over time - years - I will master the intricacies of some technology but that is not my intention.  I would rate myself illiterate in physics and I find that fact to be intolerable.

If I am blessed (some may say cursed), I have, maybe, twenty years of life left; so, physics literacy definitely is attainable.  Further on, I would like to be able to relate science to the spirit and meaning of life.  I believe science has a responsibility toward this question.  To my knowledge, this discipline (revered as it is) has never offered an answer to the purpose of human existence.    Roger S. Jones (former Professor of Physics University of Minnesota) wrote in 1992:  “The character of a miracle, however, cannot be judged by whether or not it complies with the known laws of science.”   Has this changed within science?  In my past experience, science was always kept separate from the humanities.  Will I discover that division still exists? 

Science has transformed my world; I am being asked to embrace personal change and political views based on what the “experts” have shared with me.  No, let me correct the word “asked”, instead technology has radically split reality without cultivating my soul (the spirit of living) and with zero input from me.   I want to add to the discourse as I learn.  Definitely a lofty goal, my intent to write about science but after all, a physicist is human and science is a human endeavor. Well, at least I have found one commonality – our humanness  : )

Since the technological revolution has needed funding and support, I expect science to demonstrate humility toward my effort to be educated.   After all, there is ability aside from all the good scientific advances has afforded us, to also blow us to smithereens. 

I am intimidated; this coupled with a sincere quest to have intelligent awareness of an area of study that I have ignored, should make me work hard.  I do not want to accept the next far-reaching discovery without any thoughtful reflection as to what I am gaining along with what I may be giving up.  Enough though, for now, I need to select the proper class for this term and if you are a reader younger than I, there are some benefits to age – my tuition costs less than yours.

*Jones, Roger, S.  Physics for the Rest of Us.  New York: Fall River Press, 1992 (2011 edition).

“Breakthru” (Queen)

 My grandson shared with me that he wants to be an astrophysicist.  As a former librarian, I began looking for a Christmas gift on this topic suitable for a 5^th grader.  (Who was I kidding?  Suitable for me would be nice.)  As I searched through the materials offered on Amazon, I became fascinated.  The book I selected (Bang! The Complete History of the Universe by May*, Moore, and Lintott) seemed intriguing, filled with color illustrations complimented by engaging text.   When the hardback arrived, I could not put it down.  And, in true Susan form, I found a connection between what I was reading and daily life.

What occurred to me was that I could use the universe as a guideline (even while typing the sentence I’m smiling at the audacity) for making the tough choices in life.  Well, that was my thought and I do believe it has validity.  Interesting to me, is that even an astrophysicist cannot define how big the universe is because the answer changes within an instant – so it seems is life.  It is impossible to identify a single movement called ‘now’ because doing so will not hold up across the universe.  Where you are in any moment and time, changes the meaning.  We are unbounded (or perhaps curved which is essentially the same thing to my way of thinking).  There is not an edge.

Like the universe, life problems do not have a definition (or an edge) that can withstand the test of time and be true for all people.  If we are lucky enough to have basic human needs such as food and safety met; the mind can open to studying other connections with the universe at large.  For me, answers to questions are more like waves of movement; and, within a wave are ranges.  When I labor to describe and understand what is happening to me now, I must accept that my comprehension will be different in time and space from another mind partially dependent on where, in the world or space, that brain calls home.  This is like the ‘Doppler effect’.    There is information approaching at the same time other information is receding and in addition, like a galaxy, there is also dark matter that I do not see. 

 To help make sense, I envisioned Sir Issac Newton passing a ray of sunlight through a glass prism.  Aha! He must have been ecstatic to witness that light is not a single beam but instead an assortment of wavelengths from the long red through to the short violet … a rainbow that is there even though I cannot see with the naked eye.  Later, to give you a very inadequate background, W. H. Wollaston (1801) demonstrated that dark lines crossed the colored bands.  He thought the dark lines were boundaries.  Ten years later, Joseph von Fraunhofer mapped the dark lines.  In 1858, Gustav Kirchhoff and Robert Bunsen documented that these dark lines give information about motion and distance.  Ah, the birth of modern spectroscopy.  A spectroscope can break up light into a gamut of color.  Lower the pressure and Kirchhoff and Bunsen observed that each line identified an element with exactness much like a bar code or the ISBN number of the book I refer to, are tied to a specific item. 

I am not trying to be complicated.  (I am out of my league – uncomfortable with my lack of expertise.) What I have decided, though, is that I would like to use astronomy to enhance perspective.   Being rigid is foolish; history has proven that fact.   I am dedicating 2013 to a study of astronomy, partially because I want to converse with a ten year-old boy who seems to be looking toward the stars and also, because I have a desire to learn more about the cosmos to which I am integrally connected. 

Yes, I am going to have to go back to school.  My blog entries will be once a week dealing with such questions as:   What’s it like to start anew?   How does it feel to be (probably) the oldest person and perhaps the least knowledgeable student in the class?  So, what readers can expect is my assessment of this experience, plus a bit of what I learn about astronomy.  I may not “rock you” like Queen did, but I am going to try. 

Happy New Year!

* By the way, one of the authors, Brian May, is a founding member of Queen.  He was a PhD student in Interplanetary Dust when the rock group hit the charts.