Day: November 16, 2008

Math 55

The Harvard Pops, whom I just mentioned, and whose concerts I never miss, often make jokes about Harvard in their performances.  When something is gigantic, it might be “bigger than Harvard’s endowment.”  Get it?  Most of them I get.  Some are more esoteric.

Pops Risks it All had a line that went something like (and I paraphrase):

The Rules: You’d have to take the ultimate risk!
Marcus: What, like, Math 55?

I laughed at the time, ’cause I got the gist.  Then I Googled it when I got home to understand more fully.

The math department has a pamphlet to help Freshman choose which of four math courses they might want to take.  The first sentence describing each course is as follows:

  • Math 21: A thorough treatment of multi-variable calculus and linear algebra with real-life applications.
  • Math 23: A class that covers linear algebra and multivariable calculus while also teaching proof-writing, starting with the basics.
  • Math 25: A rigorous treatment of multivariable calculus, linear algebra, and introductions to other topics in advanced mathematics.
  • Math 55: This is probably the most difficult undergraduate math class in the country; a variety of advanced topics in mathematics are covered, and problem sets ask students to prove many fundamental theorems of analysis and linear algebra.

Wow.  That is the ultimate risk.

She Wants to Date Other Guys

I can’t rave enough about the Harvard Pops, and last night’s concert may have been the best since Pops Gets Cursed in 2006, which got huge points for  introducing me to Wicked.

Sammi Biegler, whom you can watch on YouTube singing Mack the Knife from last year’s Pops Jumps the Shark concert, even came back after graduating (as Pops members are wont to do) to portray The Rules in the game of Risk.

They put to excellent use Ernst Toch’s Geographical Fugue (performed there by a different group), and I declare here that Larry O’Keefe’s short opera The Magic Futon, which the Pops commissioned and premiered four years ago, knows no rival.  Of course, you’d only be able to judge for yourself if you attended the concert.

Let that be a lesson: attend the next one.  (Then you’d also know that the title of this post is probably my favorite lyric from the show.)

Actually, That Sums it Up Nicely

A lot of credit cards now offer an “Annual Summary,” detailing how much money you’ve spent throughout the year on merchandise, travel, food, services, et cetera.  My card issuer sent out an e-mail asking us to call customer service to enroll.  It’s strange that we can’t enroll online, but it’s no big deal.  The call was simple:

Call #3:

(I key in my card number when prompted, and say my “phone password” aloud: “Socrates”)

Harry: Hello, my name is Harry.  How can I help you?
Me:  I’d like to enroll in the Annual Summary program, please.

Harry:  Would like a paper copy, or do you want the report online?
Me:  Online, please.

Harry:  One moment… Okay, sir, you are enrolled.  Is there anything else I can help you with?
Me:  Nope; that’s it.  Thank you for your help!

See?  That was really easy.  But what’s that “Call #3” heading doing up there?  Smeg.  Now we have to travel back in time 30 minutes to see what happened earlier.

Call #1:

(I key in my card number when prompted.  The system doesn’t ask for my password.)

Agent:  Hello, my name is Mumble-Mumble.  How can I help you?
Me:  I’d like to enroll in the Annual Summary program, please.

Agent: What is the password on your account?
Me:  Socrates:  S-O-C-R-A-T-E-S
Agent: No, that’s not it.  I’ll give you a hint: it starts with “S” and it’s either your mother’s maiden name, or your best friend’s last name.

(I apologize profusely to whomever I might be forgetting, but I can’t think of a single “best friend” whose last name begins with an S.  More to the point, I’d never choose an actual name for that kind of question, so even if all my friends were named Smith, Schmidt, Sutherland, and Samson, I’d still have given Socrates as my answer.)

Me:  I’m still pretty sure it’s Socrates.  If it’s not that, I have no idea what it could be.

Agent:  Could you verify the amount of your last transaction with this card?
Me:  Yes, I used it this afternoon to order pizza from Eddie’s Pizza, for $23.19.
Agent:  No, that’s not it.  I’ll give you a hint: it was for $68.72.
Me:  (pause) Okay… I went to Star Market on Friday and spent about that much…
Agent:  No, that’s not it.  I’ll give you a hint: it was on October 24th.

(First of all, she’s claiming I haven’t used my credit card in almost a month.  Second, by this time I’ve opened my account online and I’m looking at my complete transaction history.)

Me:  That transaction was from the Cheesecake Factory.
Agent:  I’ll give you a hint: it was from some sort of cake place.
Me:  Yes, the Cheesecake Factory.  I spent $68.72 there on October 24th.

Agent:  Okay.  Are you calling from your home phone number?
Me: Yes.
Agent:  I will terminate this call now, and call you back at your home telephone number to verify your identity.

Stunned silence.  The phone rings almost immediately.

Call #2:

Me:  Hello again.
Agent:  Hello, this is Mumble-Mumble calling.

<snip> (We repeat some stuff from the last call.  She verifies my home address.  She verifies my social security number.  Eventually, she starts to enroll me for the annual summary.)

Agent:  I’m having some technical problems. What I suggest is you terminate this call, and then call back.  Is there anything else I can help you with?

Me: (silently, in my head): What do you mean, anything else?

My favorite part of this is that my password really was Socrates the entire time.  We know this because it worked fine on the third call.  Also because I know how I would choose such a password, and it’s inconceivable it would have been anything else.

(This is almost verbatim, by the way.  I naturally made up amounts and dates and such, but the exchange was, sadly, real.)