Every Monday night I meet with three friends for a game of pool at Diesel, the Lesbian-owned coffee shop at Davis square. This has become a tradition, in spite of overpriced drinks and under-maintained pool tables. It's a fun place, and it's always interesting to notice the cute boys and how they turn into cute butch girls when they turn around ("a Diesel moment"). But I digress.
We usually play 3 matches, mixing and matching the pairs. This exhausts all the combinations, of course. We noticed something interesting - the last match always creates a team of someone who lost twice with someone who won twice. Thus, after the 3rd game we'd always have either "the biggest winner" (if this team wins) or "the biggest loser" (if this team lost) - someone who either won or lost all 3 games.
How does this happen? Having 3 mathematician out of 4 players meant it would be a fun exercise to figure it out.
Looking at the first two matches, let's check the 4 possibilities for the outcome of the games. First notice that there's exactly one common player between any couple in the first round and any couple in the second round. This is the case since if there were two common players it would mean we played the same combination twice, and if there were no common players it would mean that the other team would be identical to the players in question - again, meaning the same combination was played a second time.
In other words, each team from round one intersects with each team from round two with exactly one player.
Looking at the teams that won in both rounds, it means there's exactly one player who won twice. Similarly, looking at the teams that lost in both rounds, it means there's exactly one player who lost twice.
These players have not played together yet - otherwise, the guy who won twice would have lost when he played with the guy who lost twice. Hence they must be the next and final combination.
And now we can see that the outcome of the last round would show whether one of them is the Biggest Winner (winning all three rounds), or the other guy is the Biggest Loser (losing all three rounds).
QED.
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Wednesday, August 04, 2010
Prosopagnosia
I'm going to Camp Camp in a couple of weeks for my 3rd week of Adult Camping. I can't even begin to describe how much fun this is. (As a side note, it seems that not everyone shares this view: I'm yet to convince a single person to join me for a week of pure indulgence, but this is for another post.)
The one thing I fear about camp is what most others are looking for: meeting again their 200+ pals from last year. The reason: I'm not going to recognize most of them. Or if I do (vaguely), there's no chance I'll remember their name. I'm really bad in that kind of stuff. I've therefore published the following apology in the camp newsletter. I received a lot of positive feedback (obviously, I didn't recognize any of the senders.)
The one thing I fear about camp is what most others are looking for: meeting again their 200+ pals from last year. The reason: I'm not going to recognize most of them. Or if I do (vaguely), there's no chance I'll remember their name. I'm really bad in that kind of stuff. I've therefore published the following apology in the camp newsletter. I received a lot of positive feedback (obviously, I didn't recognize any of the senders.)
You approach me with a big smile. "Hi David", how are you? You get a weird stare in response. "Don't remember me? After all the time we spent together? The hike in the woods? Sailing together? Not to mention that quality time in the hot tub?"
No, I don't. I've self-diagnosed myself with Prosopagnosia: I'm really really bad in recognizing faces. I've worked at the same place for 13 years, and there are people who I see all the time and still can't recall who they are. Most chances are it will be worse in camp, with 200 people I see once a year. I promise to study the 2009 pics, but knowing myself, I'm going to f**k up sooner or later.
BTW, the condition does have its advantages. I recently biked across the Charles river, when I noticed a tall handsome blond guy jogging towards me. While I was wondering who this cutie is, he approached me and smiled. I was thinking how lucky I am! this guy is into me! Then I remembered I have a boyfriend, Clint. Then I noticed it was Clint.
I call these moments Deja-Clint. It happened to me a few months ago on the plane back from Mexico. I was taking a nap on an empty 3-seat row, only to wake up and see from the corner of my eyes a gorgeous guy looking at me and smiling. You can guess how it ended. I'm glad Clint is not taking it personally; after all, I fall for him every time the way I did the first time we met.
To sum up: please wear your badges, and pretend you don't notice when I try to read your name before saying hello. Sorry! And see you all soon!
Monday, April 26, 2010
A Walk Through the Clouds
Published by fellow blogger Barry Burke, but the text is mine. Check it out!
Wednesday, June 03, 2009
Monday, May 18, 2009
Espresso for your blog
I'm at EMC World today, in Orlando. The city is dreary, the weather is dreary (non-stop rain), the food is reasonable, but the coffee, oh the coffee... I can't stand this brown tasteless watery stuff they deliver here as coffee.
But then, when I passed through the Solutions Pavilion today (yes, this is how it's called, I swear), I saw an espresso machine. A real one, chrome-plated, Italian made. With a barrista standing next to it, happy to serve coffee. There was only one condition - you have to be a blogger! Turned out that the coffee maker was stationed inside the "bloggers lounge".
To make a long story short, thanks to this blog I got a wonderful, highly-satisfying, perfectly made double cappuccino. It made me happy for the rest of the day!
The conference itself is a hundred times better with my double cappuccino. If you're not here you're missing on a lot of nifty storage technology!
But then, when I passed through the Solutions Pavilion today (yes, this is how it's called, I swear), I saw an espresso machine. A real one, chrome-plated, Italian made. With a barrista standing next to it, happy to serve coffee. There was only one condition - you have to be a blogger! Turned out that the coffee maker was stationed inside the "bloggers lounge".
To make a long story short, thanks to this blog I got a wonderful, highly-satisfying, perfectly made double cappuccino. It made me happy for the rest of the day!
The conference itself is a hundred times better with my double cappuccino. If you're not here you're missing on a lot of nifty storage technology!
Friday, May 15, 2009
Mendelssohn on Music
I love this quote:
People often complain that music is too ambiguous, that what they should think when they hear it is so unclear, whereas everyone understands words. With me, it is exactly the opposite, and not only with regard to an entire speech but also with individual words. These, too, seem to me so ambiguous, so vague, so easily misunderstood in comparison to genuine music, which fills the soul with a thousand things better than words. The thoughts which are expressed to me by music that I love are not too indefinite to be put into words, but on the contrary, too definite.
The full quote is below.
Wednesday, November 05, 2008
Yes we can
I saw a lot of wet eyes last night, when Obama carried his victory speech. The part that touched me most, and - what the hell, I'll admit it - made my eyes wet, follows.
This election had many firsts and many stories that will be told for generations. But one that's on my mind tonight's about a woman who cast her ballot in Atlanta. She's a lot like the millions of others who stood in line to make their voice heard in this election except for one thing: Ann Nixon Cooper is 106 years old.
She was born just a generation past slavery; a time when there were no cars on the road or planes in the sky; when someone like her couldn't vote for two reasons -- because she was a woman and because of the color of her skin.
And tonight, I think about all that she's seen throughout her century in America -- the heartache and the hope; the struggle and the progress; the times we were told that we can't, and the people who pressed on with that American creed: Yes we can.
At a time when women's voices were silenced and their hopes dismissed, she lived to see them stand up and speak out and reach for the ballot. Yes we can.
When there was despair in the dust bowl and depression across the land, she saw a nation conquer fear itself with a New Deal, new jobs, a new sense of common purpose. Yes we can.
When the bombs fell on our harbor and tyranny threatened the world, she was there to witness a generation rise to greatness and a democracy was saved. Yes we can.
She was there for the buses in Montgomery, the hoses in Birmingham, a bridge in Selma, and a preacher from Atlanta who told a people that "We Shall Overcome." Yes we can.
A man touched down on the moon, a wall came down in Berlin, a world was connected by our own science and imagination.
And this year, in this election, she touched her finger to a screen, and cast her vote, because after 106 years in America, through the best of times and the darkest of hours, she knows how America can change.
Yes we can.
America, we have come so far. We have seen so much. But there is so much more to do. So tonight, let us ask ourselves -- if our children should live to see the next century; if my daughters should be so lucky to live as long as Ann Nixon Cooper, what change will they see? What progress will we have made?
This is our chance to answer that call. This is our moment.
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This is our time, to put our people back to work and open doors of opportunity for our kids; to restore prosperity and promote the cause of peace; to reclaim the American dream and reaffirm that fundamental truth, that, out of many, we are one; that while we breathe, we hope. And where we are met with cynicism and doubts and those who tell us that we can't, we will respond with that timeless creed that sums up the spirit of a people: Yes, we can.
This election had many firsts and many stories that will be told for generations. But one that's on my mind tonight's about a woman who cast her ballot in Atlanta. She's a lot like the millions of others who stood in line to make their voice heard in this election except for one thing: Ann Nixon Cooper is 106 years old.
She was born just a generation past slavery; a time when there were no cars on the road or planes in the sky; when someone like her couldn't vote for two reasons -- because she was a woman and because of the color of her skin.
And tonight, I think about all that she's seen throughout her century in America -- the heartache and the hope; the struggle and the progress; the times we were told that we can't, and the people who pressed on with that American creed: Yes we can.
At a time when women's voices were silenced and their hopes dismissed, she lived to see them stand up and speak out and reach for the ballot. Yes we can.
When there was despair in the dust bowl and depression across the land, she saw a nation conquer fear itself with a New Deal, new jobs, a new sense of common purpose. Yes we can.
When the bombs fell on our harbor and tyranny threatened the world, she was there to witness a generation rise to greatness and a democracy was saved. Yes we can.
She was there for the buses in Montgomery, the hoses in Birmingham, a bridge in Selma, and a preacher from Atlanta who told a people that "We Shall Overcome." Yes we can.
A man touched down on the moon, a wall came down in Berlin, a world was connected by our own science and imagination.
And this year, in this election, she touched her finger to a screen, and cast her vote, because after 106 years in America, through the best of times and the darkest of hours, she knows how America can change.
Yes we can.
America, we have come so far. We have seen so much. But there is so much more to do. So tonight, let us ask ourselves -- if our children should live to see the next century; if my daughters should be so lucky to live as long as Ann Nixon Cooper, what change will they see? What progress will we have made?
This is our chance to answer that call. This is our moment.
advertisement
This is our time, to put our people back to work and open doors of opportunity for our kids; to restore prosperity and promote the cause of peace; to reclaim the American dream and reaffirm that fundamental truth, that, out of many, we are one; that while we breathe, we hope. And where we are met with cynicism and doubts and those who tell us that we can't, we will respond with that timeless creed that sums up the spirit of a people: Yes, we can.
Monday, November 03, 2008
Jasper Johns' America
I visited yesterday MOMA, my favorite museum in NYC. I've been there plenty of times - with some paintings it's a bit like meeting old friends. Of course, they don't change or age, but sometimes I see them differently.
One of my favorite works there is Jasper Johns' American flag. Painted in 1954, it always makes me think about what makes us a nation - and this is true not only for the US, but also for my native country, Israel.
For me, Johns' flag shows how a country is the sum of all the people who make it. It's not some ideal red/white/blue set of stars and banners that we should conform to. His flag is not clean and pretty - but life is not either. The stars are a little stained with red, the stripes are not even. The idea they form is not necessarily coherent - different pieces "pull" the piece to different directions. In a sense, this is an anti-fascist statement. You can also see how much work he put into creating this piece. Just painting a banner with colors is not enough to unite a nation - but maybe giving everyone the chance to contribute his own piece and own shade can do it.
Tomorrow I'm going to vote for the first time for the president. I'm excited to be part of it, and excited to finally have a president that represents me. I believe Obama believes in this tapestry called America - after all, his personal biography is anything but homogeneous. Even with all the economic turmoil of the last months, I feel things can dramatically change for the better with him. Run, Obama, run!
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
The Last Racist Law in MA: 1913-2008
The Massachusetts House voted Tuesday to repeal a law that had prohibited out-of-state gay couples from legally marrying in the Bay State.
By a margin of 118-35, legislators voted down the 1913 law, which nullified any marriage performed in Massachusetts that was not legal in a couple's home state. The state Senate approved repeal earlier this month and the bill is likely to reach Gov. Deval Patrick, who has pledged to sign it, within a week.
I thought this is a good opportunity to recall the wonderful events of the night of May 17th, 2004, when gay marriage became legal for the first time in Massachusetts. Moreover, the first place in the state that opened its gates to same-sex couples was just 2 blocks from me, namely, Cambridge city hall. At midnight, after a long celebration outside, the first couple got married.
Danny and Tao Kai had to wait until 4am that night to get their marriage license, but we all celebrated a few weeks later at their marriage.
For more pictures from these eventful nights, check my web site, taalul.com.
Friday, July 11, 2008
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