The Infinite when it was Two Digits Old

The Infinite when it was Two Digits Old

  By Allen I. Fleishman, PhD

  Copyright 2009 Allen I Fleishman

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Dedication and Acknowledgments

  Author’s Note

  Year 11.3 Prelude – Norton Hatches a Plan

  Year 16.4 ComHead – Master of the Universe

  Year 16.5 Act Normal and we’ll Pass For Human

  Year 16.7 No Need to Bow

  Year 16.9 Monster? Where?

  Year 17.20 If you want to double your Successes, You Need to Triple your Errors

  Year 17.21 Kiss me, I’m a Genius

  Year 17.5 Ask me Anything. Like your Measurements

  Year 17.6 Run! He knows Math.

  Year 17.6 Give Yourself over to Absolute Pleasure

  Year 17.61 Don’t worry, Dad’s bark is worse than his bite

  Year 17.8 Out to Launch. Will Return Shortly.

  Year 18.4 Watt do you want?

  Year 19.2 Uncle David’s Pick-up and Delivery

  Year 19.5 I’m with Stupid b, d --> e). It was about creating a three-dimensional 64-core circuit board made by spraying layers onto a circuit board using a printer-like device. The reference again was to an unnamed engineer.

  Maurice put a note on his calendar to contact this David Smith after the term was over to see if he wanted to switch majors or to mentor him on some special projects. ‘This kid shows real promise, if we can steal him from another department…’

  ***

  On the way home from his second Rocky Horror Picture Show, Charlie asked, “David, didjya ever play softball?”

  “No”

  “Shit, thought you might be good. Anyway, we have a co-ed game tomorrow, interested? ”

  David asked, “Don’t I need equipment and stuff?”

  “Nah, it’s a friendly game, the other side could loan you a mitt, and I know you have sneaks. I’ll bring you to the field. It’s at 11. So we’ll have to get up early tomorrow.” Charlie grinned.

  ***

  Shortly before 11, both boys left through the rear exit of their dorms. David’s sweatshirt said, “Wanna Play Ball?” The field was a short walk past the library. A number of men and women were already waiting. David immediately recognized the RHPS regulars. Charlie said the others were from Kappa Alpha Mu, an honorary service Fraternity/Sorority. In fifteen minutes, the teams were assembled, the batting lineup determined, and the Rocky Horror Picture Group took to the field. David borrowed a glove and was assigned to the right outfield.

  Martin: Remember David, you said you never played, so you have to be a complete klutz.

  David: I can’t do anything right?

  Martin: You said you never played, not me.

  David: But that was the truth.

  Martin: And your point is?

  David looked to where the women playing left field was and placed himself in the mirror position. She was a slim woman, an English major, who had a beautiful voice. David tried to smile at her, but she kept her eyes on the batter. Smiling was allowed. After ten minutes, David gave up the attempt.

  The pitcher, from the Kappa Alpha Mu team, threw easy pitches to his teammates. Most hits were near the pitcher’s mound or by third base. Occasionally a ball was walloped to the left centerfield. None were near David. At the end of the bottom of the first inning, Kappa Alpha Mu had scored two runs. David saw no action.

  David was near the end of the batting lineup, so he didn’t bat the first inning.

  When David got to bat, he heard his father say,

  Martin: Hold the bat with an inch between your hands. Rest the bat on your shoulders. Move your legs closer together.

  Charlie on seeing David’s stance said, “David, tighten up your grip. Hold the bat level.” Charlie grinned apologetically to the rest of his team.

  Martin: OK, grip the bat with three-quarters of your strength, lift the bat up, but make one-inch circles with the end of the bat. Miss the first two times and hit it so it lands behind you on the third pitch.

  David struck out.

  The second and third inning was similar to the first, with the exception that the second basewoman caught a ball David attempted to catch. He was going to push her out of the way to catch it, but Martin interrupted him.

  Martin: Stop David! You’re not supposed to be good. Remember? Plus, it would be bad sportsmanship for you to grandstand. She’s got it.

  David: Yes, Dad.

  David stopped within five feet of her as she threw the ball to first base, for two outs.

  In the fifth inning, a ball was hit to his right field.

  Martin: Run forward at full speed. Now run left and slightly back. OK pick the ball up and throw it over Kenny’s head.

  An overhead diagram of where David should run was sent to David.

  The ball fell ten feet from David’s original position. When David finally reached the ball, the batter was rounding first. David tossed the ball to second base, but it flew over the second baseman’s head. The batter scored a triple.

  David: Oh, Dad! How could you do that to me.

  Martin: You know why. You’re playing like a beginner. It’s a friendly game and all these people once played as bad as you.

  At the eighth inning, David was up again.

  David: Can I at least hit the ball? You know, by accident?

  Martin: OK, but keep it within center field. And make it look like an accident.

  The opposing team captain gestured for his teammates to move up. They all moved up ten to twenty feet. David was tensing his hands and the end of the bat was making large ovals.

  Patty, the pitcher, said, “Here it comes, a nice easy one.”

  Charlie shouted, “Not so tight. You can do it David. You can do it.”

  David swung too late. He missed the second swing also.

  Patty pursed her lips, “A slow one now.” She threw the ball gently.

  David lifted the bat off his shoulders, the end continued to wobble. He leaned forward so he was almost off-balance. One point four seconds before contact, the bat was noticeably two inches lower than it should have been. David’s grip relaxed and swung the bat in an upward slice. 0.211 seconds before contact, David readjusted the bat’s direction up and forward three thousand’s of an inch as he exhaled to get more strength out of his hit. He lifted his right foot and brought it down one foot in front of him, getting greater momentum. The ball came in contact with the upward cut of the bat and everyone heard the sharp crack. David dropped the bat and ran to first base. The ball was rotating 574 revolutions per minute in a direction -37 degrees from the ball’s trajectory.

  The ball wobbled in the air as it dove toward the feet of the shortstop. The ball hit the dirt by her feet and rather than continuing in that direction, it bounced sharply to the left and up to the third baseman. He hadn’t been expecting it and it bounced off his sleeve. David rounded to second base. The shortstop and third baseman almost collided as they simultaneously dove for the ball. David ran to third base and slid into it. He stopped three inches before the bag and quickly scampered on his knees the remaining distance. The third baseman finally had the ball and did almost a full pirouette before seeing David holding onto the base with his fingers. David finally heard the shouts from his team. Most were laughing, some with tears in their eyes. David had driven in three runs. David stood and smiled crookedly.

  Martin: A bit schmaltzy, but you did a great job. You know you can’t make a mistake of that magnitude like that again, but in future games you can improve to a fair beginner. Now, I want you to count the number of tim
es your name is mentioned in relationship to this game and how often Charlie’s home run was mentioned. I guarantee your play will be brought up more than twice as often.

  Shortly later, both teams went to the cafeteria. The Kappa Alpha Mu team bought pizza and soda for the Rocky Horror team. David was once again the center of attention. While everyone else was talking about the game, David was talking to his father. The number of references to the accidental hit was over four to one. Martin constantly reiterated that Charlie improved his abilities slowly, while David’s idiosyncratic triple will be remembered as unique. David reluctantly agreed to his father’s advice. In future games, David improved from 20% of the team’s average to 70%.

  YEAR 17.21 KISS ME, I’M A GENIUS

  President Windseig was walking through the cafeteria. This was his favorite haunt to get the pulse of the school.

  Arthur was able to get out this Wednesday. There would be no cold meal in his office today. He briskly strolled, stretching his stiff legs, to the basement in Sherman Hall. The day was dry and still warm. The leaves hadn’t started to turn. It was a perfect early autumn day. He entered the cafeteria. Today’s special was meatloaf and cheese pizza. Arthur grabbed a large salad and a slice of the meatloaf. He exited the serving area and noticed one of the new freshman, Brenda McGriffith talking to another freshman female, Judy ... Judy ... Judy Morrow. They were in an animated discussion. Arthur strode to the table, “May I join you?”

  The girls looked initially startled and were obviously slightly uncomfortable. Brenda said “Sure, President Wintfield.”

  He thought, ‘Ouch, should I correct her? I better.’ “Windseig. Thank you very much. I enjoy meeting all the new students, Brenda McGriffith and Judy Morrow is it?”

  They brightened. It was unusual for teachers to know their names, a college president no less. Windseig had seen this reaction before and had spent many hours memorizing names and ID pictures. They might remember them when they became alumni. It paid off more than once.

  He asked, “What’s new?”

  Brenda said, “Oh, I was telling Judy about some excitement in my history class today.” Windseig noticed a slight jump in Brenda. Judy obviously had either nudged her hard or kicked her. Without taking his eyes off Brenda’s, Windseig asked, “What happened?”

  Windseig noticed that Brenda looked at Judy and then she became subdued, “Oh, not too much, we were talking about some historical battle or other.”

  Windseig smiled, “Go on. What happened?”

  “Oh, nothing much, just that Gibson, I mean Professor Gibson asked a boy if he was paying attention.” She paused, “He did look like he was sleeping.”

  “What happened then?”

  “Well, the boy said he heard everything. That’s all.” Brenda’s voice implied that was the entire story.

  “I think you’re leaving out the fun part. I’d like to hear it all.”

  Brenda looked at Judy, and then Arthur saw she made the decision to continue. Her voice started to come alive. Her eyes brightened and she became animated.

  “Well, you see Gibson asked this longhaired boy who was sprawled across his chair and wearing sunglasses if he was paying attention. He LOOKED like he was sleeping and he had the silliest half-smile. … The boy said he heard everything the professor said, INCLUDING his errors. Well that shut the professor up for a second or two. Then Gibson, I mean Professor Gibson said ‘ERRORS?’ His voice sounded like he had never made an error in his life. Well, the boy had this stupid half smile and shook his head yes and said seven minor ones and one major one. Well, the professor looked like he had just eaten some lemons and he said something like ‘What errors?’” Brenda said the last part in a deeper voice with a grotesque pretend frown on her face.

  “Well, the boy said that the dates were not this but that, and this guy was not the prince but the duke, and it wasn’t Henry the sixth but the fifth. Then the professor said he did not say this date, but the date the boy said. The boy said that he clearly heard that date. The professor came up to the boy, loomed over him, nose to nose, and said he was wrong, and he was lying. The boy got all red in the face. Like he never, never ever lied and he was accused of murdering his mother or something. The kid stood up, and bent down to look Professor Gibson in the eye. He must have been less than an inch away.” Brenda’s voice changed again as she enunciated each word. “The boy said ‘I DO NOT LIE, YOU BIG STUPID MUSH-HEAD.’ ”

  “Well, the boy was really, really upset. I could almost see the steam escaping from his ears. Then he got this idea. I saw his face change. He looked at this girl sitting in the front row and said her name, I don’t remember it right now but he said something like ‘Mary Jones, you wrote down in your notes the dates, go back to the top of the page before that one, no one more, okay read what you wrote down.’ She looked like she was going to … DIE, … but she said the date the boy said was initially wrong. Then the boy continued, he was almost gleeful, ‘But the stupidest thing was when you said that the Battle of Agincourt was the end of chivalry because the peasant English longbow could kill the noble armored knights on horseback.’ He said that it had been proven ‘in numerous scholarly journals’ that the arrows couldn’t penetrate the thick French Steel armor. That the French rushed into battle into a funnel formation, and slipped in the ankle deep mud. It was raining on the three days prior. The boy gave the dates. They slipped; their own people stampeded them to death, or the English longbow-men killed them, but only with their long knives, right into the eye-slits. Squish. It had nothing to do with the longbow. The boy said he’d send Gibson references.”

  “Well the professor looked like he had eaten an entire lemon. He was humiliated. He said, ‘We need to have order here.’ He walked away from this boy and started his class again.”

  Windseig put on a happy face, even though he needed to get back to his office, FAST. “It sounds like the class was exciting. College life allows differences of opinion. That’s what makes it so different from all other schools, the challenge of different ideas. Sometimes they replace the older ones too. How are you finding your other classes ...” He thought, ‘thank god we pushed the difference in opinions theme this year in orientation.’ Windseig quickly finished his salad, and meatloaf, then he grabbed a slice of pizza as he left.

  A boy, with long hair, sprawled on a chair, silly half smile. It would be a matter of seconds to scan the registration for Gibson’s class that Brenda McGriffith attended. It could only be …

  ***

  A number of David’s classmates in the World History class were also in his other classes. As David exited the Psychology class David noticed one of the boys, Myron, waiting for him, there was a small group around him. “So David, what errors did McNair make?”

  Taken slightly off guard, David said, “Plenty.” He started to walk away, when the kid asked, “Like what?”

  “Oh, ah, like William James never believed in the James-Lang theory of affect.”

  “He didn’t?”

  “Nah, someone half read James’ Principles of Psychology. He actually said emotions, like fear, was from the viscera in 53% of the references and produced by thought the other 47%. He never said it was only visceral. The conclusions from that study McNair quoted were also considered meaningless. But McNair’s not as bad a poopy-head as the other professors.”

  A small circle of people gathered around the two, they were grinning.

  David felt something was wrong with the conversation, it felt odd, especially the looks he was getting from the other kids. An analysis of their smiles indicated they were actually smirks. They were also glancing quickly to one another 32% more frequently. David said he had to go and left. Unnoticed by all, Hilda stayed behind and listened. He heard their conversations through her microphone.

  “A real jerk.”

  “Intellectual show-off.”

  “… immature l
ittle kid”

  “… never let into college.”

  After the group broke up, Hilda caught up with David. He had heard everything. It wasn’t until 4 months later that David noticed that their eyes dilated noticeably when he said the word ‘poopy-head’. These teenagers, who routinely use more classic four letter curse words, were shocked.

  ***

  Windseig went to his office, closed the door, signifying to his secretary that she must not disturb him. He quickly dashed out a letter to all faculty members. The gist of the letter is that all required classes can be excused for meritorious students. All professors will provide any interested student with a placement exam. It may be the final exam. Any student who scores an A or higher will be excused with full course credit.

  Windseig was certain the Gibson incident would be all over campus. Any professor with half a brain, that is, all his faculty members, would make the placement test available ASAP. Damn the faculty council if they wanted all students to be required to take their classes. The A or better should be enough to avoid that battle.

  Arthur sent the letter off. He then sent an e-mail to Fleur telling him that he’d like to take over as faculty advisor for David Smith. A second e-mail to Smith indicated that he would like to be his faculty advisor and that Smith could and should speak to all his professors to place out of any required classes he desired. Would David be available to come to his office on Friday to discuss alternative classes?

  Could he find faculty willing to be in the classroom with David?

  He then called Gibson to discuss the incident.

  ***

  That night Martin spent an hour talking with David about not showing off, not making a professor, look like a horse’s-ass, even if he deserved it. How easy it was for the other students to realize how much David knows. How David, if he were a normal student, would NEVER know what was in another kid’s notes. Never.

  David : But Dad, he’s such a stinky doo-doo head.

  Martin: Never, … ever, … let anybody know you know more that the professors. How many times do I need to tell you that? And you should never embarrass authority figures, especially in front of others. … NEVER! I also want you to stop going on these rants about those not as sharp as you. Otherwise, you’re going to be angry every day. Personally, I’m tired of hearing it. Get over it. Or would you rather jail yourself in your bedroom forever? I’ve tried not to monitor you 24/7, do you want me to start? I could tell you what you’re doing wrong every minute of the day if that’s what you need. Do you want that?