My Clementine (or, the value of a peel)

Browsing grocery ads over my Saturday morning latte, I noticed a big, bold citrus sale advertised on the front page. Yum! Contemplating the tangy possibilities, I saw that I could buy a 5 pound box of clementines for $4.88. What a deal!

On the opposite corner of the page was advertised peeled clementines for $3.99/lb.

My eyes darted back and forth. The markup was extraordinary. By the box, clementines were a little less than $1/lb, but peeled, they were about $4/lb. Of course, you're not paying for the weight of the peel in the second scenario. Ok, so estimating that the peel makes up 20% of the weight of the fruit (I googled the question to ensure accuracy), the 5 pound box would yield 4 pounds of peeled fruit, so that brings the price up to $1.22/lb.

Still, hat's a 330% markup. For what? There are about 5 clementines/lb. I, an untrained peeler, can peel a clementine in about a minute. That's one pound in 5 minutes, or 12 lb/hr. So, for an hour's labor, the price of 12 pounds jumps from $14.64 to $48, which means that hour's labor earned about $33. Whoa! That much for peeling fruit? If the store is paying $10/hr to an employee to peel, they're still making $23/hr on the labor (minus overhead, I know).

So, this is why grocery stores sell peeled fruit. It's also why I'll be buying my clementines by the box.

Would you like me to peel one for you?

Math Almost Killed Me

One warm, spring day in 19... found me lying on my back on the asphalt, staring into a sky made blurry by my tears, halfway between biology class and math class. My friend Paris, startled but not phased, lay down next to me. "How long are we going to be here?" he asked.

I was 17 and my life was dramatic. I mean no, not really. I lived a fairly normal life in an average family in the northeast heights of Albuquerque. I had good grades, loyal friends, and a violin. But I was 17, so life was dramatic.

"I can't do it," I sobbed, "I can't go back to Calculus class."

"Hm," suggested Paris.

"I don't get it. It makes no sense. It's like they're just making stuff* up."

"Yep." Paris was not taking Calculus. Paris was wiser than I.

"I'll NEVER understand it! NEVER!!! What the heck* is it even about?!"

"I think that was the late bell." Paris acutely observed.

I eventually made it to class, even managed to pass at the end of the semester. I went on to major in chemical engineering because someone told me I should. This, as it turned out, required several more math classes. After my last math class (partial differential equations, which, counter-intuitively, are more complex than full-fledged differential equations and totally ridiculous, really) I sighed and promised myself that I would never ever again take another math course. I had survived, yes, but it wasn't pretty.

So here I am, teaching math at a local college and finishing up a graduate degree in mathematics. Because life is ironic and fate has a malicious sense of humor. But I have discovered at least three things:

1. Math is unavoidable. You can love it, hate it, fight it, or ignore it, but it will not go away. It surrounds our every living and dying moment.

2. Most people hate math, which is unfortunate, and produces much more angst in life than necessary.

3. There is an actual branch of mathematics called knot theory that studies, yep, knots. I kid you not (haha!)

And so this space is for all those who fear, flirt with, dislike, celebrate, or deny math, so that together we can embrace it, laugh at it, or at least learn to tolerate it. Because it's not going away. It's stubborn like that.




*language edited for the sake of the children