There is a long list of evidence with which to back up my claim, but unless you've had the ill fortune to be my grade school/middle school/high school math teacher (or that poor remedial algebra professor at the University of Colorado), and would like to chime in now, we'll just take my word for it and call it good.
Speaking of calling it good, one day soon I will write about the grammatical disaster that is "I'm good," and why I feel duty-bound to respond to that bewildering statement with "Oh, yeah? Good at what?" Or, if you're related to me, "Oh, yeah? Good for what?"
I digress..
Somewhere in early adulthood, we (the siblings and I) came up with the "Recessive Math Gene" theory. It was brilliant. It explained everything so succinctly. Better yet, it got us off the hook. Because we had inherited the Recessive Math Gene from my genius father, we could not be held responsible for equations and theorems and (gag) statistical analyses. It was simply out of our control.
(My grad school statistics instructor didn't buy our theory, but as my genius father came to Colorado and tutored me before the final, all was well with the world.)
So now the mantle, dubious though it may be, has been passed to the next generation. My brother's oldest son shows promise. Both of my sister's sons show promise, although they are a bit too young for Dad to claim any responsibility just yet. My son, on the other hand, most definitely takes after his illustrious grandfather.
That is, if the number of detentions served in the 7th grade is any indicator, this boy has the gene. My father, Dr. Klasi of the big, fat math brain, spent his entire seventh grade year in after-school detention.
FYI: They had detention back in the dark ages.
He spent a year there. I have this from a
AND I saw his report card. It was shocking. Shocking, I tell you.
It gives me such hope.
oh, to be a math genius. i hate math, but give me a good book or a thesis to write and i'm good :)
ReplyDeleteSmarty pants. :-)
ReplyDelete