Calfgrit8 had some homework that he couldn’t figure out. Cowgrit tried to help him with it, but she ended up coming to me: “Can you help CG8 with his homework?”

Cowgrit said she tried to help him, but she couldn’t figure out how to do it. I thought she was probably distracted by Calfgrit4, or maybe she was hurried with cooking dinner. I mean, it’s second grade homework, how difficult can it be?

The homework in question:

Pay the Bill

Solve.
Draw the coins to show the amount of change due.

A. Penny has $2.00. She buys an ice cream sundae for $1.89. How much change will she receive?

B. Percy has $1.00. He buys a small drink for $0.60. How much change will he receive?

C. Pip has $3.00. He buys a hamburger for $2.35. How much change will he receive?

. . . etc.

Looking over each problem, I immediately thought, “11 cents (a dime and a penny), 40 cents (four dimes), 65 cents (two quarters, a dime, and a nickel). . .” etc. Yeah, this isn’t complicated.

I sat down with Calfgrit8 and we talked through the problems a bit. “We haven’t learned how to subtract three-digit numbers, yet,” he explained.

“OK,” I said, “we can do it tonight.”

I wrote down
_200
-189

Then I sat there a minute looking at the equation.

“How do I do it, Dad?” CG8 asked.

“Um,” I answered, “well, ah, give me just a moment.”

I fiddled with the numbers a bit. I marked out the end zero and wrote “10” above it. Then I marked out the middle zero and wrote “9” above it. I thought that was it, but when I did the subtraction from right to left, I got 111 (instead of 011). How did this pattern change the beginning two to a one?

Wait a minute. I couldn’t remember actually how to do the borrowing from one digit to another. How many years has it been since I did subtraction on paper? Twenty years? Thirty years?

I took one of the other equations
_300
-235

I fiddled with the number again, but I couldn’t figure out how the old thing worked. I said to CG8, “You’ve done two-digit subtraction, right? I’ve seen you do that.”

“Yeah,” he confirmed.

“OK,” I said, “show me how you do that.”

He did 20 – 18.

“Great,” I said, “now lets use that to figure out how to do three-digit numbers.”

I wrote down the 200 – 189 equation again, and let him work it out, extrapolating what he knew for two-digit numbers. He did it correctly on his first try. And I saw how it was supposed to be done. Man, but that made me feel like an idiot.

CG8 quickly went through all six of his change problems, getting the right answer each time. Once he saw how it worked, it was all his. I wanted to give him some more three-digit numbers to subtract, but dinner was almost ready, and we still had another step to do on the homework.

I showed him how he could draw the change: I made a circle and wrote “1” in it for the penny, and then another circle with a “5” for the nickel. He got the pattern and used this for writing the change for each problem.

11 cents = circle-10, circle-1
40 cents = circle-10, circle-10, circle-10, circle-10
65 cents = circle-50, circle-5, circle-10
etc.

Afterward, Cowgrit and I talked about the homework. She, like me, could immediately tell the answer, but she couldn’t figure out how to explain it to CG8. “Yeah,” I agreed, “I ended up getting him to figure it out on his own.”

I wonder if helping with his homework will get easier or harder for me as his math problems get more advanced. I think I’m actually looking forward to him needing help balancing equations and solving for X.

Bullgrit

Continued from here.

It took all my concentration to keep from vomiting, and my concentration was handicapped by spinning vision and throbbing pain. Oh God, make it stop, was all I could think. I felt like I had no blood in my body. For the remaining couple of minutes in the ride, I was sweating and quivering.

When the ride at last ended, and I could exit, I found standing and walking difficult and unsteady. My head wanted to explode, my stomach wanted to empty itself, and my bones wanted to collapse. I’m serious –- I have never experienced such distress. A couple of Disney workers in the ride gave me a look over as I passed them in the exit tunnel, but I guess they figured I was OK since I was able to walk on my own.

I made it out of the ride zone, and through the after-ride entertainment area, and through the gift shop, and finally, outside to the bright sun and fresh air. I found an empty bench and laid down. I wasn’t concerned what people might be thinking of me right then, laying down on a bench, because it took all my concentration just to stay alive.

It was an hour before I could sit upright and not feel like throwing up. A little while after sitting up, an older man sat down next to me, to wait for his wife to come off the ride.

We chatted for a while. He was from England, and he and his wife were in Disney World for his 65th birthday. They had both ridden the less intense version of Mission: Space, and then his wife wanted to ride the more intense version. I related that I had just gotten off that version (I didn’t say, “an hour ago”), and was recovering. I really didn’t feel like talking, but I think doing so helped me get over the ill feelings.

Eventually, his wife came out. The man introduced me, and we discussed the experience a bit. She said it was indeed intense, and she didn’t like it, but she was not ruined like me. I explained that I had lifted my head and looked to the side during the ride.

“The signs say not to do that,” she said, politely.

“Yeah,” I said, “and now we know why.”

They chuckled, and she added, “I don’t think I could have lifted my head. I couldn’t lift my hands to push the buttons.” They wished me a speedy recovery, and went on their way.

Half an hour later, my family returned to the park. I was able to walk properly by then, but my head was still spinning, albeit, slower. I wasn’t dizzy enough to fall down, but it was enough to keep me from fully enjoying anything for another hour. I even felt a little bit of disorientation later that evening.

It’s a shame that my first and only experience on a centrifuge turned out so badly (because I screwed up). I think I would have really enjoyed that more intense version of Mission: Space – feeling the increased Gs, especially when lifting my arms, was very cool. But wow, taking that G force hit to the inner ear totally ruined me. I was reduced to being happy that I didn’t throw up or fall down afterward.

Bullgrit

Way back in my post talking about the thrill rides I experienced in Disney World during our September vacation, I mentioned I’d say more about a couple of the rides.

The most horrible ride experience I have ever had was with Mission: Space in Epcot. I went to see this ride by myself, while the rest of the family went back to our resort rooms for a break (Calfgrit4’s naptime). There’re two versions of this ride: Less Intense and More Intense. I figured I should try the less intense version first, so that’s the line I got in.

At the end of the line, I waited for my “mission team” to be assembled, and then we stepped into a “preparation room” where we were given the “pre-flight briefing.” When the “ship” was ready, we were directed to the flight simulators. There are four people to each ship crew, and each person has a “job” to perform (firing the rockets, turning on the cryo-sleep system, firing the break rockets, etc.), so it’s a bit of an interactive ride as well as an experience ride.

The whole mission is blasting off from Earth, flying through space (with a sleep mode to hand wave the long distance), and landing on Mars. The mechanics of the ride are your basic flight simulator –- the sealed capsule leans back to give the feeling of blasting off, rotates about to give the feeling of steering through asteroids, and leans forward to give the feeling of breaking. The only view out of the capsule was through the “window” in front of me which showed directly out the front of the “spaceship.” The ride takes 4 or 5 minutes from blast off to crash landing, and it’s a decent experience. But it’s definitely “less intense.” When I got off, I was thinking, “Meh, it was OK.”

But since I had plenty of more time left to kill at Epcot, waiting for the family to return from their siesta, I wanted to give the more intense version a try. Everything looks pretty much exactly the same for both versions, but along the line, and in the prep room, there are signs warning about the intensity. One major warning is to keep your head against the seat back at all times.

I got on this more intense ride with two Mexican teenagers who didn’t speak much English. They asked me if the ride was really hard, and I told them that I didn’t know, as I’d only ridden the less intense version. I’m not sure they completely understood me.

Once we were strapped into our flight seats, and the ride started, it became apparent what the difference between the two versions was – the more intense ride is a centrifuge. Way cool! Blast off was much more intense, with a real feeling of increased Gs. When it came time for me to perform my crew functions (push buttons), I found my hands and arms incredibly heavy. I had never experienced anything like that before. I was excited.

About a minute into our mission, one of the Mexican boys in the capsule with me said, “Aye, mommy!” It made me chuckle, and I turned my head to look at him. The capsule seats don’t let you look directly to the sides, so I lifted my head (not easy in the centrifuge) and looked to my left.

UGH! It felt like my brain was hit with a bat (bypassing my skull). My head immediately fell back against my seat, and I was more intensely dizzy than I have ever been in my life. My vision spun, my head ached severely, and my stomach felt liquefied. My head and stomach felt more horrible than any illness has ever made me.

To be continued . . .

Bullgrit

Viewed: DVD

After the Star Wars prequels, I lost a lot of interest (maybe all interest) in any Star Wars story taking place in the pre-New Hope time. George Lucas just so terribly screwed up the story and characters and well, everything, that watching the movies actively annoys me. Yes, I really dislike the three prequel movies that much.

I’ve mentioned that Calfgrit8 has seen A New Hope with me — we still need to see Empire and Jedi — and recently he asked to see Clone Wars. “My friends have seen it,” he told me.

So I rented it and watched it Saturday night. I wanted to see if it was suitable for an 8-year-old. I sat at my computer with my headphones, after everyone else was asleep, and I watched this movie. I determined that the content was okay for Calfgrit8 to see.

Probably 70% of the movie time is showing warfare, but the only deaths are robots and faceless clone troopers. There’s no blood and guts.

But, there’s also no attachment for me. It didn’t move me at all. It was just a lifeless, shell of a film, to me. In fact, after watching the first 30 minutes (out of 98 total minutes), I started fast forwarding. I’d fast forward a couple minutes, watch a minute, then fast forward several minutes, watch a minute, then skip to the next chapter, watch a minute, etc.

So Sunday afternoon, while Calfgrit4 took his midday nap, Calfgrit8 and I watched this movie together. For me, watching this was like watching the boys’ What’s New Scooby Doo videos — nothing of interest to me whatsoever. But for CG8, he loved it. He *loved* it. I can see why he loved it, and I figured he would judging from the bits I watched the night before.

I’m glad he got to see it. I’m glad he enjoyed it. And I’m glad I was with him when he experienced it. But it showed that prequel Star Wars is completely dead to me. The only emotion it got out of me was . . . well, I don’t think it got any emotion out of me.

There were many parts that had me rolling my eyes — the clone troopers leaving cover to charge into the robot army and fight literally muzzle to muzzle; the battle robots having vocal personalities that were stupid for comic relief; Anakin Skywalker being so damned aggressive and ornery, yet so highly thought of among the Jedi masters; a very young padawan learner being so powerful in the force — that I wanted to shoot the computer monitor and TV screen with a blaster.

Basically, this movie is purely for Star Wars fans under 12 years old. If that was the intention for the film, (and I suspect it was), then it is successful at hitting it target.

Bullgrit