Contemplating Life – Episode 74 – “Finishing at Last”

This week, we continue my reminiscences of my college days at IUPUI, where I studied computer science. We also cover my final semester and my work at the IU Department of Medical Genetics.

Links of Interest

Support us on Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/contemplatinglife
Where to listen to this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/contemplatinglife
YouTube playlist of this and all other episodes: https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLFFRYfZfNjHL8bFCmGDOBvEiRbzUiiHpq

YouTube Version

Shooting Script

Hi, this is Chris Young. Welcome to episode 74 of Contemplating Life.

This week, we continue my reminiscences of my college days at IUPUI, where I studied computer science. We also cover my final semester and my work at the IU Department of Medical Genetics.

I had three courses that semester. Systems Programming CS 403 was a course on operating systems. In it, we learned about the hierarchy of software in a computer.

At the lowest level, your computer has something called a BIOS. That is an acronym for Basic Input and Output System. It is stored in permanent, read-only memory. It is completely hardware-specific to your particular machine. For example, it will poll your keyboard to see if you are pressing a key, and if so, grab the keystroke and pass it along to the other software. In those days, personal computers were completely text-based. There was no graphical interface like Windows or Mac OS. So, the BIOS would handle sending characters to the screen. It would send characters to your printer. Also, it would handle the lowest-level functions of reading and writing data to a floppy disk or hard disk. It didn’t organize the data into files or manage directories. That’s for the actual operating system to handle.

Above the BIOS in the hierarchy is the kernel. It creates and manages the file system on your discs, loads programs into memory, and performs memory management on operating systems that allow more than one program to run simultaneously.

Then, there are utility programs. In a text-based operating system, commands such as copying files, modifying file permission, displaying directory listings, etc., are often handled by utility programs, even though they seem to be commands issued to the operating system itself.

The top layer is your application program. That’s your word processor, spreadsheet, database manager, and later, Internet browsers. The course explained how all of these processes communicate with one another and who does what at each level.

As I mentioned, the course number was only 403. As a senior, I was already taking graduate-level courses in the 500s and 600s. I wished I had taken this course earlier because it would’ve made that independent study project I did with Dr. Gersting much easier. In that project, I had to implement an operating system. Unfortunately, at the time, I really didn’t have a very good understanding of how it all worked.

A few years later, when I started building my own personal computer, I really needed to understand all these things. For example, I had put together a completely customized set of hardware, and I had to write an extension to the computer’s BIOS to handle my specific hardware choices.

In those days, we didn’t have flash memory. Anything stored in computer memory would disappear when the power was turned off. We did have something called a ROM, which stands for Read-Only Memory. Programs stored in ROM are not lost when the power is turned off, but they cannot be changed. Their contents are burned in during the manufacturing process. However, there were devices called PROMs, which were Programmable Read-Only Memories. With special hardware, you could program your own ROMs. The catch was if you made a mistake and needed to update the program, you had to throw the chip away and program a new one.

Next came something called EPROM, which stands for Erasable Programmable Read-Only Memory. If you need to erase the contents of the ROM, you can erase it and reuse it. There was a window on top of the chip. You would place the chip under a strong ultraviolet light overnight. That would erase the memory, and you could reuse it. I had one of those in my first personal computer and had to rewrite my BIOS extension several times.

Eventually, they invented something called EEPROM, which stands for Electrically Erasable Programmable Read-Only Memory. They can be erased and rewritten electrically. It’s not such that you can read and write to the memory at will. You still have to erase it completely and rewrite new content. Such chips are used today to store the BIOS of your computer, and occasionally, when your computer updates its software, it will update your BIOS.

That particular class was one of the most useful classes I took because of the work I had to do on my first homemade PC.

Another class I took in my final semester was CS 661, ”Formal Compiler Methods.” As I explained in an earlier episode, a compiler is a program that translates a high-level language such as FORTRAN, Pascal, or C++ into machine language so that it can be run on the computer. The only thing a computer can do is run machine language. So, you need a compiler to translate other languages into machine language.

Most compilers take at least 2 passes through your program to translate it. In the first pass, your text is turned into tokens. For example, high-level languages have certain observed words such as “IF,” “THEN,” “ELSE,” and “WHILE,” just to name a few. It recognizes that these are reserved words and turns them into a number so they can deal with them more easily. You also get to make up names of locations where you will store values. These are called variable names. They can be anything you want, such as “MyData” or “Counter”. The compiler creates a symbol table of these names and assigns them memory locations.

The process of reading through your program and figuring out all of these things is called “parsing.” I was highly intrigued by different methods of parsing computer languages. In the 1990s, when I began working on the open-source CGI rendering program POV-Ray, I rewrote much of the language parsing section of the program and extended the programming language with new features. The other people on the team gave me the nickname “The Parse Meister.” So again, this course was one of the most useful courses I ever took.

The third class I took was “CS 590 Topics in Computer Science.” This was similar to the independent study project I had done with Gersting, except there were about five or six people in the class. It wasn’t just one-on-one. Anytime a professor wanted to teach a course that wasn’t in the regular curriculum, they just titled it “topics.”

The topic of this particular course was “Program Verification.” We explored formal methods of mathematically proving that a program did what you wanted it to. You would come up with different assertions that you would place throughout the program. These assertions were formal statements about things that you expected to be true of the data. You would then sort of manually run the program backward and see if the code really kept these assertions true.

I made good use of these methods in my work at the genetics lab. It wasn’t so much to verify that the code worked as designed. But we were having problems with bad data going into the database. We had data on punched cards from a previous record-keeping system. This data was put into a translation program that would put it in the new format for the database that we were creating. But occasionally, the data would get corrupted. It would not convert the data properly. So, I wrote a series of programs that would check the data for internal consistency.

Let me explain how the database worked. Each family had a family number, and each member of the family had a member number. In the members’ records, there was data explaining the relationship between that member and the other members of the family. So let’s say that the dad was member number one, the mom was member number two, and the kids were numbered three, four, five, etc.. There was a field called “spouse”. My program made sure that your spouse’s spouse was you. Sometimes, the data would get lost in translation, or maybe it wasn’t coded properly on the punchcards to begin with. The spousal numbers didn’t line up properly. My program would flag “Inconsistent spouse data.” Our data entry person, a nice lady named Paula, would go back and fix the original punched card data, run it through the translator again, and put the correct data in our new database.

They also had a system for keeping track of your siblings. Because you never know how many children a person is going to have, we only had one sibling pointer. The parents would point to the first child. The first sibling would point to the next one, and the next one, and the next one until you got to the last sibling, and that would point back to the first one. My program made sure that the loop closed properly and that each child had the same parents.

The whole concept behind this data verification program that I wrote came out of that topics class that I took in my final semester. It was probably my biggest contribution to the entire project.

We also faced the challenge of trying to get the data displayed in a graphical format. Geneticists have a way of drawing your family tree. If I recall correctly, men were represented by squares and women by circles. Lines connected family members in a particular standardized way. We had a computer plotter that would draw these graphs, and we had a printer that had some graphical capabilities.

I tried to come up with an algorithm that would more efficiently draw these family trees. I had a concept in my head about the way you would traverse the branches of the trees in a particular way that made it easier to create the plots. I wrote a proposal that I thought explained it, but Gersting couldn’t make heads or tails of it. I had not done a very good job of explaining the concept I had in my head. Unfortunately, I never did get around to implementing it. But I’m certain to this day I had a very useful way of creating such graphs.

That final semester was probably the second most stressful I ever had. It was a real challenge to work part-time in genetics and take graduate-level classes at the same time. Still, I managed to get two “A”s and a “B.”

I almost blew the final exam in one of the classes. I had missed a couple of classes under the stress of trying to get programs done. I decided I needed to go to class on the final day because I thought we were going to review before the final. I had the date wrong. This wasn’t a review day. It was the day of the final. If I decided to cut class that day, I would’ve missed the final and blown everything.

I also had to make special arrangements to take one of my finals on a different day. That’s because I was nearly in a car accident. I was riding in the wheelchair van going from my job to the 38th St. Campus when someone pulled out in front of us. The driver had to slam on the brakes very hard. Although my wheelchair was strapped down, it slid forward and bent my footrest as I slid into the back of the driver’s seat in front of me. It sprained my ankle quite severely. I called my professor and told him I had been injured in a minor accident and couldn’t make it. He agreed to let me take the final a couple of days late. I didn’t do very well on the final, so I told him, “As you can see, I didn’t cheat by taking the extra days to cram for the final because I didn’t do very well to begin with.” Ultimately, I still got a B out of the course based on my other work.

While we are talking about incidents while riding in the commercial wheelchair van, I should tell you about one other incident. The lift on my wheelchair van that my dad built was not fully automatic. Once you got up to the level where you could roll your wheelchair in, you had to manually fold up the lift. The wheelchair taxi company had fully automated lifts that would fold automatically.

The lift would unfold and lower to the ground. I would roll my wheelchair onto it backward with my back towards the van. The driver would then push a button, and the platform would raise until it was level with the floor of the van. I would then go back into the van, turn 90° facing forward, and there were straps on the floor that would attach to hold the chair in place.

There were two sets of controls for operating the lift. One was to be used while someone was on board. The other one was to be used when the lift was empty. That first set would automatically stop the lift when you got to the level position, allowing you to get off. But one day, the driver used the other controls. When it got to the top, he let go, but the button got stuck. Rather than stopping at the top, it proceeded to try to fold up with me in it. It was going to tip me over backward.

In the split second that all of this occurred, I began thinking about what it would be like to fall over backward. The driver was standing behind me, and I was going to fall on him, but I didn’t know how that was going to go. I had my head ducked forward to make it through the doorway. I was worried that when I landed, my head would snap back very hard. I figured it was better to put my head back ahead of time. Unfortunately, I did not think about the reason why I had my head forward to begin with. Without ducking, I don’t fit through the door. Just as I flung my head backward, the top of my head got wedged underneath the top edge of the doorframe.

As the lift continued to attempt to fold with me in it, it began jamming my head harder into the top of the doorframe. I could feel it compressing my spine. I was worried it was either going to crush my skull or break my back. I was saved by a rather disturbing outcome. The cable that was pulling the lift into its folded position broke on one side. The lift lurched slightly sideways as it was now being held solely by the right side cable. I don’t know if that triggered some other failsafe or if the driver finally got the button unstuck. But the lift stopped.

He then pushed the other button to unfold it until it was level again. I rolled safely into the van with nothing more than a bruised head and an aching neck.

Now, we had to figure out what to do next. How do we get me out of the van with a broken lift? We drove back to the wheelchair taxi’s garage headquarters. They had another vehicle available, but we had to figure out how to get me in it. We couldn’t figure out how to position the lift of one van to get me in the other one because we would have to unfold the broken lift.

When he unfolded the damaged lift, it was hanging a little bit crooked, but it looked reasonably solid. Having no other choice, I rolled out onto the broken lift, and he quickly lowered it to the ground. The remaining cable held. I got into the other van and made it home safely.

These days, I have a professionally made wheelchair lift on my van and it is fully automated. I make sure that when anyone operates it, they never use the button that can fold it up while I’m on the lift. They only use the other controls that automatically stop at the top.

I think the incident may have actually put a dent in my skull. If you look closely at my baldhead in the proper light, you can see bumps and valleys. Fortunately, there was no injury to my spine.

After nine semesters plus a summer class, I finally graduated with a Bachelor of Science Degree in Computer Science from Purdue University awarded at Indiana University – Purdue University at Indianapolis. Although I completed my coursework in December 1977, I had to wait until the June 1978 ceremony to actually attend commencement.

The commencement ceremony was held at Market Square Arena. Even though I had been to the arena many times over the years for sporting events and concerts and knew the place quite well, I took a wrong turn going from the parking garage to where I needed to go and ended up on a ramp that I had never taken before. It was much steeper than the ramps I usually took to navigate the venue. It felt like my chair was about to tip over backward, but fortunately, I kept it under control.

The commencement speaker was Mayor William Hudnut, III. He was one of my favorite mayors, even though he was a Republican. He was a really great guy.

At the time of my commencement, there was some sort of political controversy going on. I seem to recall it was a disagreement between Mayor Hudnut and the chief of police or something like that. I don’t remember exactly what it was. He made some reference to the disagreement in his commencement speech. It really disappointed me that he would take that opportunity to make political points during a commencement speech. Except for that one incident, overall, I really liked the guy.

A few years later, Mayor Hudnut awarded me a certificate naming me “Indianapolis Outstanding Handicapped Citizen” in recognition of the volunteer work I did as a member of the boards of directors of the Marion County Muscular Dystrophy Foundation and the Central Indiana Radio Reading service. See the YouTube version of this podcast for a photo of me receiving the honor. I liked him before that. He helped bring the NFL Colts here from Baltimore.

I didn’t need to go job hunting now that I had my sheepskin. The genetics department agreed to hire me full-time upon graduation. I don’t think Gersting had to do any persuasion to hire me in a permanent full-time position. I’d like to think that I had proven my worth to the department by then. But I’m sure Gersting was in on the decision to offer me the full-time position.

In upcoming episodes, we will discuss my remaining work at the department and the circumstances under which I eventually left for health reasons.

If you find this podcast educational, entertaining, enlightening, or even inspiring, consider sponsoring me on Patreon for just $5 per month. You will get early access to the podcast and other exclusive content. Although I have some financial struggles, I’m not really in this for money. Still, every little bit helps.

As always, my deepest thanks to my financial supporters. Your support means more to me than words can express.

Even if you cannot provide financial support. Please, please, please post the links and share this podcast on social media so that I can grow my audience. I just want more people to be able to hear my stories.

All of my back episodes are available, and I encourage you to check them out if you’re new to this podcast. If you have any comments, questions, or other feedback, please feel free to comment on any of the platforms where you found this podcast.

I will see you next time as we continue contemplating life. Until then, fly safe.

Contemplating Life – Episode 73 – “Simulating and Stimulating Work”

This week, we continue my reminiscences of my college days at IUPUI, where I studied computer science and worked as a programmer at the IU Department of Medical Genetics.

Links of Interest

Support us on Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/contemplatinglife
Where to listen to this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/contemplatinglife
YouTube playlist of this and all other episodes: https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLFFRYfZfNjHL8bFCmGDOBvEiRbzUiiHpq

YouTube Version

Shooting Script

Hi, this is Chris Young. Welcome to episode 73 of Contemplating Life.

This week, we continue my reminiscences of my college days at IUPUI, where I studied computer science and worked as a programmer at the IU Department of Medical Genetics.

I started work at the genetics department in April 1977 during my eighth semester. We already covered the classes I took that semester. I would go to work early in the morning and ride with my dad. He worked at a sheet metal shop at 10th and West Street, just a couple of blocks from the genetics lab at Riley Hospital. I would work most of the day, and then the wheelchair van would transfer me to the 38th St. campus of IUPUI, where I would take evening classes. I don’t remember how many hours I worked for those first few weeks while I was still in school. It was only a month before finals when I started. After finals, I began working full-time at the genetics lab. Dad would take me to work each morning and pick me up again at the end of the day throughout the summer.

Over the summer, they hired three other student programmers. I don’t remember the names of the two guys, but there was a girl named Chrisel. We all got along very well. We had good times but managed to get a lot of good work done as well.

We had a timesheet that we were supposed to fill out each day and turn in at the end of the week. One of the guys came up with the idea of writing a computer program that would fill it out for us. We would crank the timesheet into a teletype machine and run the program, and it would fill out our hours. We were supposed to work an eight-hour shift with a lunch break in the middle. We didn’t actually clock in and out on the computer, although we told everyone we did. The program would start at 9 AM and randomly pick a time plus or minus 2 or 3 minutes. In the middle of the day, it would randomly pick a time for a ranch break. At the end of the day, it would pick a time that exactly matched eight hours. So it looked like we were arriving at random times plus or minus a couple of minutes and leaving exactly 8 hours later, but it was all bullshit. Don’t get me wrong… We really did work approximately eight hours. But the timesheets were a complete fabrication.

I don’t recall what we were paid hourly. One day, on payday, I noticed that the other students were being paid more than I was. Upon closer inspection, the hourly rate was the same, but the other student programmers did not have Social Security withdrawn from their checks. Apparently, at the time, there was a provision that if you were a student employee, you did not have to pay Social Security. But I was having it withdrawn.

The other programmers said, “Go talk to Randy. He will fix it for you.”

Randy was the department’s business manager. He was in his mid-30s and in a wheelchair from a spinal cord injury. He could move his arms a bit but had difficulty gripping things with his hands. He had some sort of mechanical device strapped to his wrist. He could flex his wrist, and it would open and close the grip of his fingers, allowing him to hold a pen or pencil. I thought it was a very clever device.

I never did go to see Randy about getting exempt from Social Security. I thought to myself, “Who knows, maybe someday I will need that extra time of eligibility.” It was one of the smartest decisions I ever made. Two years later, when I had to quit work because of my worsening disability, I needed to have paid a minimum of 8 quarters of Social Security payments in order to be eligible for Social Security disability. I had accumulated exactly 8 quarters. Had I taken the exemption for student employees and not paid into Social Security, I would’ve never been able to draw disability payments. I often wondered if Randy anticipated that possibility and did not automatically give me the exemption.

The girl, Chrisel, was an interesting character. She had an air of sophistication and haughtiness that bordered upon arrogance. It seemed that she was raised in a family of wealth and privilege and exuded that attitude. She seemed offended by Dr. Gersting’s gruff personality. She said, “I told my mother that Dr. Gersting’s language was crude and colorful. It’s populated with such words as ‘sucker.’ My mother replied, ‘I presume you are not referring to a piece of hard candy on a stick.’ I replied, ‘No, Mother. He says sentences like, ‘If this sucker doesn’t run by Friday, we are going to be screwed.’” That was an accurate description of Gersting. I loved him for it. She was disgusted by it.

One day, I got to meet her mother, a child psychologist who worked at Riley Hospital. One day, during our lunch break, she took me upstairs to meet Mom. It turns out that I was likely a former client of her mother. While sitting in the small waiting room outside her mom’s office, I had a flashback to a distant childhood memory of being in that very waiting room. There were pictures of clowns hanging on the wood-paneled walls. When I looked into the office, I also noticed the space.

I’m guessing I was about 4 or 5 years old, and my parents took me to be evaluated by a psychologist. They wanted to know if my disability was only physical or if there was something mentally wrong with me. In those days, I had an imaginary friend that concerned them. They took me to a woman for evaluation. She interviewed me and gave me puzzles to work. She had little triangular and square wooden tiles of various colors. She would show me a drawing, and I had to re-create the pattern using the colored tiles. I had no difficulty completing the task quickly. She reported to my parents that I was highly intelligent and that imaginary friends were completely normal… especially for smart kids like me with an overactive imagination and no other siblings to play with. Unless there was another female child psychologist occupying that same office 18 years ago, I’m certain it was Chrisel’s mother. Unfortunately, I didn’t put all this together until after I left her office, but I later told Chrisel that I might have been one of her mother’s clients when I was a child.

Chrisel and I went on a sort of a date one afternoon. We took a break and walked all the way over to University Hospital, about two blocks away. She said that the cafeteria there made great milkshakes. She invited me to come with her to get one. We had a nice time. I’m never one to turn down an opportunity to spend time with an attractive, smart woman, but overall, I don’t think she was quite my type. She was just a little bit too in love with her own sophistication.

She later went on a date with one of the other guys who was working with us. I think it was just dinner and a movie. I don’t think anything ever came of it.

Dr. Gersting taught a summer school class in the genetics department that summer. It was called “Discrete Computer Simulations CS 543.” He held it at 8:30 a.m., just as I was arriving. There were about five students. Besides me, all the rest were genetics grad students. We sat around a conference table. I was at the end of the table. Gersting was to my left. So I could look straight ahead and not make eye contact with him. That was a good thing because I often dozed off during the class–it was so early. One of the things that would occasionally keep me awake, if not exactly focused on the work, was a girl sitting on my right. She often wore loose-fitting flannel shirts with several unbuttoned buttons on the top. She never wore a bra. When she would turn a certain way, I could see down the front of her shirt and get a good look at her bare breast all the way to the nipple. I’m pretty sure she was lesbian, but that didn’t matter. Boobs are boobs. I was 20 years old. Given such an opportunity, I couldn’t keep from looking. Besides, it kept me awake.

Our final project was to write a computer simulation using a FORTRAN package of programs. I forget the name of the package. We had the option of doing a simulation that Gersting assigned or coming up with one of our own. The project was some sort of boring simulation of a widget factory. You had to run different scenarios to see if you could improve efficiency by expanding a production line with an extra workstation. I wanted to come up with a more interesting scenario. As a joke, I asked if I could simulate customers arriving at a brothel. Was it worth it for the Madam to hire an extra girl, given the average wait time of her customers? Gersting said that unless I could come up with real-world data to base it upon, just do the standard assignment. Not having access to the raw data, I did the assignment as assigned. I earned a B for the course.

When the summer ended, the other three student programmers left, and I never saw or heard from any of them again. I went back to part-time employment, working during the day and taking classes at night for my ninth and final semester.

When I was preparing my schedule for that final semester, my guidance counselor uttered the most dreaded words a college senior could hear: “You weren’t planning on graduating this semester, were you?”

Yes, I was planning on graduating.

You may remember many episodes ago when describing my first semester at IUPUI. I took a college algebra course that earned me 5 credit hours, and I was awarded an A. I felt that I needed the class to prepare for calculus, which I had never taken in high school. I was warned at the time that the School of Science would not count that course towards my mathematics requirements. They considered it a remedial class. I didn’t realize they were not going to count them as credit hours at all. No one had told me I would get no credit whatsoever. I just thought it would not count toward my math requirements, which I fulfilled. By the end of my ninth semester, I would have fulfilled all of the requirements for my degree except for the total number of credit hours. I was going to be five hours short.

I asked the counselor, “What am I to do? Go take some elective courses like art appreciation or basket weaving just to get five more hours. That’s ridiculous. I’m an undergrad getting As and Bs in graduate-level courses in computer science. Why do I have to take some crap course just to graduate?”

He suggested I write a letter to the Dean of the School of Science to see if I could get an exemption and get that 5-credit-hour remedial math class to count as an elective. So, I wrote to the dean and told him about the misunderstanding regarding the math class. I explained that I was warned that it would not count toward my math total, but I had already fulfilled my math requirements. I pointed out that I was making good grades in graduate-level courses in computer science. I explained that the Indiana Department of Vocational Rehabilitation normally only pays for 4 years of college, but I had cajoled them into paying for my ninth semester. I didn’t think I could get them to extend that another semester.

A few weeks later, I got a reply from the Dean. They would count that math class as an elective, and I could graduate in December 77 as planned.

Now for a brief epilogue: I need to start doing my research for these episodes before the editing phase. I tend to write the episode and then rush to get it recorded. Then, during editing, I decide to look up things so I can add links in the description and photos for the YouTube version. I need to do my research first.

Christine Ann Roeske was the woman who worked with me that summer in the genetics department. She went by the name Chrisel. I think she spelled it C.H.R.I.S.E.L. It must’ve been a childhood nickname. I always thought it was a shortened version of Crystal, but apparently, her real name was Christine. Her mother was Dr. Nancy Arnold Roeske. I didn’t remember her mother’s name, but I remembered their last name. I just chose not to mention it in the podcast because, let’s face it, I wasn’t very flattering to Chrisel.

That last name is spelled R.O.E.S.K.E. but is pronounced, “ress-key”– not “row-ski.”. I remember discussing with her that my uncle’s name was Roell, which is spelled R.O.E.L.L. The R.O.E. in both names is pronounced the same, with the “O” essentially silent. It’s ress-key and rell, not row-ski or row-ell.

I wanted to look up Dr. Roeske to see if she was working at Riley when I was a child. According to a blog post I found memorializing her, I don’t think she held that position. It says she completed her residency in 1964 and then took the position at Riley. I would have been nine years old in 1964. I’m pretty sure the thing I remembered was prior to that. Dr. Roeske was quite a woman and I encourage you to read the linked article about her. She died of cancer in 1986, a few days after her 58th birthday. I did not find an online version of her official obituary.

The article mentioned she had 2 children but didn’t give their names. It mentioned her husband, Dr. Roger William Roeski, so I went looking for his obituary in hopes of finding Chrisel’s actual name. I found a partial obituary that stated, “His first wife Nancy Arnold Roeske, daughter Christine Roeske, and sister Romelle Roeske preceded him in death.” He died in 2009 at age 82 from complications of Parkinson’s. It described Dr. Nancy as his first wife, so apparently, he remarried.

At first, I just saw the name Christine, and it didn’t sink in that she had preceded him. I googled her and found a record for her on a genealogy website that said, “She died on 11 October 1991, in Canberra, Australian Capital Territory, Australia, at the age of 34, and was buried in Minneapolis.” The article about her mother said that Dr. Roeske was born in Minneapolis. It didn’t list a cause of death for Christine, and I have no idea how she ended up in Australia. I would like to learn more about her life.

So, that’s the rest of the story. I need to start doing this research before I write.

In our next episode, I will talk about my final semester at IUPUI, my continuing work at the genetics lab, and my graduation with a BS degree in computer science.

If you find this podcast educational, entertaining, enlightening, or even inspiring, consider sponsoring me on Patreon for just $5 per month. You will get early access to the Topodcast and other exclusive content. Although I have some financial struggles, I’m not really in this for money. Still, every little bit helps.

As always, my deepest thanks to my financial supporters. Your support means more to me than words can express.

Even if you cannot provide financial support. Please, please, please post the links and share this podcast on social media so that I can grow my audience. I just want more people to be able to hear my stories.

All of my back episodes are available, and I encourage you to check them out if you’re new to this podcast. If you have any comments, questions, or other feedback, please feel free to comment on any of the platforms where you found this podcast.

I will see you next time as we continue contemplating life. Until then, fly safe.

Contemplating Life – Episode 72 – “What’s Your Diagnosis?”

This week, we continue my reminiscences of my college days at IUPUI, where I studied computer science. I include the story of how my mentor, Dr. John Gersting, helped me get my first legitimate programming job.

Links of Interest

  • IUPUI website: https://www.iupui.edu/
  • Indianapolis Center for Advanced Research: https://uindy.historyit.com/container.php?id=112877
  • Ronald McDonald House of Central Indiana: https://www.rmhccin.org/
  • “High and Low” by M.C. Escher: https://www.researchgate.net/figure/High-and-Low-by-M-C-Escher_fig11_2493735
  • M.C. Escher on Wikipedia: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/M._C._Escher
  • Prof. Emeritus Dr. John Gersting on IUPUI website: https://science.iupui.edu/people-directory/people/gersting-john.html
  • Indiana University Department of Medical and Molecular Genetics: https://medicine.iu.edu/genetics
  • Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy on Wikipedia: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Duchenne_muscular_dystrophy
  • Article on amyotonia congenita from 1945: https://jamanetwork.com/journals/jamapediatrics/article-abstract/1180094
  • Dr. Donald Merritt obituary: https://www.newspapers.com/article/the-indianapolis-news-obituary-for-a-do/109490297/
  • “The Me in the Mirror” by Connie Panzarino on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Me-Mirror-Connie-Panzarino/dp/1878067451/
  • Connie Panzarino on Wikipedia: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Connie_Panzarino
  • Spinal Muscular Atrophy on Wikipedia: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spinal_muscular_atrophy
  • Spinraza treatment for SMA: https://www.spinraza.com/
  • Evrysdi treatment for SMA: https://www.patreon.com/contemplatinglife
    Where to listen to this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/contemplatinglife
    YouTube playlist of this and all other episodes: https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLFFRYfZfNjHL8bFCmGDOBvEiRbzUiiHpq

    YouTube Version

    Shooting Script

    Hi, this is Chris Young. Welcome to episode 72 of Contemplating Life.

    This week, we continue my reminiscences of my college days at IUPUI, where I studied computer science. I include the story of how my mentor, Dr. John Gersting, helped me get my first legitimate programming job.

    My eighth semester at IUPUI would not be my last. As I mentioned previously, it was going to take me at least nine semesters to graduate because of some scheduling conflicts early on and the fact that I had to drop two classes along the way. But it was all part of a plan that I had known about for some time. It was no surprise I wasn’t going to make it out in just four years.

    We have already discussed the classes I took that eighth semester, but there was another major event we needed to discuss. I began applying for my first legitimate job as a computer programmer. That is in contrast to the ghostwriting of some programs I did for a computer technology student and a small project programming a microcontroller for an electrical engineer.

    There was a bulletin board in the computer center at the “A” building on the 38th St. campus, which occasionally posted job listings for student programmers. The first one I applied for was for an agency at the University called the Indiana Center For Advanced Research. It had the acronym ICFAR, which was pronounced: “I see far”. I thought that was a very clever joke for a research facility. As best I can tell, the organization no longer exists. I don’t know the history behind it. I don’t recall exactly what kinds of research projects they engaged in, but apparently, they used computers for something.

    They occupied a small building at 1219 W. Michigan St. The building is no longer there. It was torn down and replaced with the Ronald McDonald House, where families of sick children can stay while their children are in long-term care in the hospital. just a few blocks west of IUPUI’s downtown campus. I scheduled an interview for the job and arranged to go to the downtown campus even though I was no longer taking classes there.

    I drove my wheelchair a few blocks down Michigan Street to get to the interview and had a couple of very frustrating incidents along the way. For some reason, I stopped by the campus bookstore in the basement of Cavanaugh Hall and browsed around. I purchased a really cool poster of the famous drawing by M.C. Escher titled “High and Low.” It was shrink-wrapped onto a piece of corrugated cardboard. I propped up this tall, narrow poster onto my footrest and held it with my hands. As it crossed University Boulevard going down Michigan Street, a strong gust of wind blew the poster out of my hand and onto the street. A passerby retrieved it for me, but not before it had been run over at least once by a car. Fortunately, the plastic wrapping protected the poster, and it was unharmed.

    The ICFAR building is only three blocks away from the IUPUI campus, but there were no curb cuts to make it easy to use the sidewalk. I had to drive in the street along the curb. Michigan Street is quite wide in that area, so I was reasonably safe. Apparently, I wasn’t the only person who dropped something in Michigan Street that day. I saw a very crisp, brand-new $20 bill just lying in the gutter. I had no way to pick it up, and this time, there was no one around who could pick it up for me. It’s one of the few times in my life where I really hated my disability.

    I interviewed for the job, and as far as my programming skills were concerned, I was certainly qualified, but I think they wanted something besides a programmer. It sounded to me like they were looking for more of a gopher… You know, go for coffee, go pick up printouts from the computer center, etc.

    A buddy of mine, I don’t recall his name, also applied for the job, and he got it. I wasn’t disappointed because they weren’t really looking for someone with my skills. He eventually did get to do some programming, but as I suspected, he was just tired as a flunky to do odd jobs.

    As I recall, it was only a couple of weeks later that another notice advertising for a student programmer appeared on the bulletin board. The notice said, “See Dr. John Gersting for details.” At my earliest opportunity, I dropped by his office in the “K” building on the 38th St. campus to find out what kind of a job it was.

    “What can you tell me about that job listing on the computer center bulletin board?” I asked.

    Gersting went into a lengthy speech explaining that he was just a consultant on the project and that he couldn’t pull any strings for me. I would have to earn the job on my own. When he finally wound down, I said, “I’m not looking for favors. The notice says to see you for details. Consider yourself seen. What is the job? How do I apply? I don’t know anything about it. I might not even want the job.”

    He explained that it was at the Indiana University Department of Medical Genetics, located in the research wing of Riley Children’s Hospital. They were building a computer database of genetic testing results on 15,000 families. The program was written in BASIC, which I had taught myself back in high school, so I was quite familiar with it. He gave me a phone number and told me to ask for Dr. Coneally.

    That was on a Thursday. I didn’t get a chance to call until Friday afternoon. When I asked for Dr. Conceally, they said that he was in the weekly Friday afternoon staff meeting and I should call back on Monday.

    When I called, I spoke with Conceally. I found him to be a gregarious and friendly person with a thick Irish brogue accent. I told him I was interested in the student programming job that Dr. Gersting had advertised.

    “Oh yer the fella that John was tellin’ us all about. Yer exactly what we’re lookin’ fur. O’course you’ll hafta interview for the job just as a furmality.”

    Apparently, Gersting had been in that Friday staff meeting and had already told them my whole life story. His claim that he wasn’t going to pull any strings for me was a bunch of baloney. He had me the job before I even interviewed.

    I did schedule an interview and expected to see Dr. Conneally there doing the hiring since he was the contact person. Instead, the chairman of the department, Dr. Donald Merritt, MD, PhD, conducted the interview accompanied by Dr. Gersting.

    A few minutes into the interview, the two doctors began joking around with one another and Gersting got in some sort of zinger in the discussion. I don’t recall what he said. Dr. Merritt responded by flipping off Dr. Gersting! Gersting shot back a dirty look and sort of rolled his eyes. You could tell he was thinking, “Really? You are going to flip me the bird in front of my star pupil? What kind of juvenile asshole are you?” Somehow, I managed not to burst into hysterical laughter. I had to agree with Gersting. It was a childish move.

    At one point, Dr. Merritt asked me, “What’s your diagnosis?”

    I didn’t understand what he was asking. I thought he wanted me to diagnose something. He then explained, “No, I’m asking with what were you diagnosed? Tell me about your handicap.”

    “Okay, well, it’s some sort of genetic neuromuscular disease like muscular dystrophy. I’ve got a second cousin who has Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy, but it’s not that because I never walked when I was young. The doctors here at Riley Hospital called it ‘amyotonia congenita’ but that’s more a description of my symptoms rather than a diagnosed condition.”

    I often tell people the somewhat apocryphal story that my mom took me to the clinic at Riley Hospital, and they said it was “amyotonia congenita.”

    She asked, “What the hell is that?”

    They replied, “It’s Latin for ‘weakened muscles since birth.’”

    “So, I bring my son and tell you he has had weak muscles since birth, and you give me some Latin phrase that means he’s got weak muscles since birth.”

    The doctors replied, “Yeah, but doesn’t it sound more impressive when we say it in Latin?”

    Okay, that conversation probably never really happened, but it’s a good approximation of what did happen when I was about two years old and first “diagnosed” with amyotonia congenita.

    Anyway, back to my conversation with the genetics doctor in my job interview. I continued, “You know better than I do that there are probably a dozen different kinds of MD. I never bothered to figure out which one it is.”

    “Don’t you want to know what kind it is?” he asked.

    “Well, Doc,” I replied, “When you can tell me which of those dozen different kinds of MD you can do something about, then I’ll worry about whether or not I have that one.”

    He raised his eyebrows a bit and replied, “Point taken. But there are still reasons you might want to know. Do you have siblings? They might want to know if their children are at risk.”

    I explained that one of my sisters was adopted, and the other was years away from childbearing age.

    He then revealed that he asked because he wanted to see if I was comfortable discussing my disability. The fact that I was ready to talk about it so candidly assured him that I was. He told me that the office manager, Randy, was a semi-quadriplegic, so they were accustomed to having employees in wheelchairs.

    I could’ve ruined the interview by talking back to the guy the way I did. In addition to the fact that knowing what particular brand of neuromuscular disease I had seemed useless, in those days, the way they tested you was quite invasive. It involved things like a muscle biopsy or connecting the electrodes to your muscles and watching them twitch. No thanks. I’m not going through that just for a label.

    Fast forward 25 years.

    I was doing a Google search for a friend of mine who did not have Internet at the time. She was looking up some medical information about a condition her nephew might have. While I was researching diseases, I decided to Google “amyotonia congenita.” One of the pages that popped up was my personal website which explained that’s what I had.

    Another page led me to a book for sale on Amazon. “The Me in the Mirror” is the autobiography of Connie Panzarino. The description said in part, “Writer, activist, and artist Connie Panzarino was born in 1947 with the rare disease Spinal Muscular Atrophy Type III, formerly called Amytonia Congenita.”

    What was this thing, “Spiral Muscular Atrophy?” That sounded like a real disease and not just some Latin gobbledygook excuse for a diagnosis. So I googled “Spinal Muscular Atrophy” and came across a blog by another woman who had the same thing. Reading about her life was like reading about the twin sister I never had. It’s so perfectly described me it was ridiculous.

    My research showed that you could get a definitive diagnosis with nothing more than a blood sample. The disease is caused by a missing chunk of DNA in your number 5 chromosome. They simply sequence that area of your DNA and if you have a missing chunk in both copies of your fifth chromosome, that means you have SMA.

    Although I had left the IU Department of Medical Genetics more than two decades prior, I called them up to see if they did testing for SMA. I made an appointment with a genetics counselor. The department had moved to a new building and was no longer housed in Riley Hospital. We talked about several people who had worked there when I was there. One of them said they vaguely remembered me from years ago.

    The counselor reviewed for me what was known about SMA at the time. I had already done much research on the condition by then but she added some information I did not know. They took a blood sample. A few weeks later, the report came back. There was a dual deletion of the seventh axion of the Survival Motor Neuron gene on my fifth chromosome. That meant I had SMA.

    We discussed whether or not my cousins or my sister Karen should be tested to see if they were carriers. They suggested that Karen could be tested if she wanted to. Regarding my cousins, they said that my aunt or uncle should be tested first to see if they were carriers before testing my cousins. None of my cousins exhibited the disease, so the real question would be about the risk to their children. I let all of my cousins know about the availability of testing, but none of them ever pursued it.

    Karen explained that it wouldn’t affect her decision to have children. However, if she was at risk of having a disabled kid, she might want to be more prepared financially to raise a disabled child.

    By the way, unless both parents are carriers, the children are not at risk of exhibiting the disease.

    In 2016, they did come up with treatments for SMA. There is a drug called Spinraza, which is a series of spinal injections. There is a drug called Evrysdi that is simply a liquid that you drink or put in your G-tube every day. I have been on Evrisdi for three years now. More about that story in a later episode

    One more story about my diagnosis. I purchased that book from Amazon about the woman who had SMA but I never got around to reading it. Not only was the author an artist and disability advocate, but she was also a feminist lesbian advocate. After purchasing that book, Amazon kept recommending to me lesbian feminist books. But for some reason, they never recommended disability-related books as a result of the purchase.

    A few years ago, I saw someone on Facebook in an SMA group named Panzarino. I asked if she was related to the author/activist Connie Panzarino. She said that Connie was her older sister. I asked her to thank her sister for her minor role in helping me find my diagnosis. She replied that Connie died in 2001.

    In upcoming episodes, I will tell about my experiences working at the genetics research lab, a summer school class that I took from Dr. Gersting, and my ninth and final semester at IUPUI.

    If you find this podcast educational, entertaining, enlightening, or even inspiring, consider sponsoring me on Patreon for just $5 per month. You will get early access to the podcast and other exclusive content. Although I have some financial struggles, I’m not really in this for money. Still, every little bit helps.

    As always, my deepest thanks to my financial supporters. Your support means more to me than words can express.

    Even if you cannot provide financial support. Please, please, please post the links and share this podcast on social media so that I can grow my audience. I just want more people to be able to hear my stories.

    All of my back episodes are available, and I encourage you to check them out if you’re new to this podcast. If you have any comments, questions, or other feedback, please feel free to comment on any of the platforms where you found this podcast.

    I will see you next time as we continue contemplating life. Until then, fly safe.

Contemplating Life – Episode 71 – “Brotherhood”

This week we continue with my reminiscence of my college days at IUPUI studying computer science. We talk about the service fraternity that I joined in 1975.

Links of Interest

Support us on Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/contemplatinglife
Where to listen to this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/contemplatinglife
YouTube playlist of this and all other episodes: https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLFFRYfZfNjHL8bFCmGDOBvEiRbzUiiHpq

YouTube Version

Shooting Script

Hi, this is Chris Young. Welcome to episode 71 of Contemplating Life.

First, a bit of housekeeping…

In case you haven’t heard, Google Podcasts has gone away. Podcasts that were on Google Podcasts have migrated to YouTube because YouTube now has a podcast feature. Since I already have all of my episodes on YouTube in video format, I’ve not bothered to migrate the audio versions to YouTube. So, anyone who is using Google Podcasts, just subscribe to my YouTube channel, and you can catch up with everything there. In the YouTube versions you can listen to them without having to watch the video itself.

The other thing that’s going on is if you subscribe to Patreon for me, or anyone else for that matter, through an iOS app on your iPhone or iPad, Apple is going to charge a 30% tax. So, if you do subscribe to Patreon please do not do so on iOS through your iPhone or iPad. Instead, do it through the website or an android phone or any other method you can subscribe.

One last item… If you are watching me on YouTube, you may notice I have a strap across my forehead. I’ve been having more trouble keeping my hand up straight and keeping it balanced in the headrest, so I’ve been wearing this head strap. Normally I only use it while riding in the van, but I have been using it around the house more and more, and I feel much more comfortable with it.

I’ve talked to my wheelchair people, and they are getting me a new headrest. I’m hopeful it will hold my head in a more comfortable position. It has a head strap that is easier to use than this one.

So, now we will go on with my regularly scheduled episode.

This week we continue my reminiscence of my college days at IUPUI studying computer science.

Chronologically we were about to tell the events of my eighth of nine semesters but there was a story from earlier in my college days that I neglected to tell. It’s going to be a short episode but I need to tie up a loose end.

Sometime in 1975, probably in the spring semester, I pledged to a fraternity at IUPUI. It wasn’t your ordinary social fraternity, complete with a frat house and toga parties. It was more of a service organization. I pledged to the Tau Omicron Chapter of Alpha Phi Omega. The organization was based on the principles of the Boy Scouts of America. Despite that origin, it was a coed fraternity. Technically the female members were a separate organization known as “Little Sisters,” but in our chapter, we made no such distinctions. The girls were members just like the guys.

My friend Kathy Logan who I’ve spoken about was a member. So was Frank Williams who I’ve mentioned a number of times. Neither Rich nor Mike were involved. I knew Frank before he pledged for the organization. Kathy says she didn’t meet me until she pledged but I thought I knew her independently of the frat. I guess not. She is the only lasting friend that came out of the organization and I think I would have met her even if I wasn’t involved.

The pledge process was nothing spectacular. They didn’t engage in any significant hazing. I was assigned a member to be my sponsor. It was a girl whose name I forget. The next year I sponsored a girl named Dorie Radke. Neither of those friendships was significant. I don’t know where they are at today.

I mentioned that we did not have a frat house. All we had was a tiny room off the back of the vending machine room in the library building on 38th St.

They engaged in a number of service projects with the one I spent most time working on was the used book exchange. Normally if you sell your used textbooks to the bookstore, you would be lucky to get a third of the cover price, and they would sell it to some other student with a significant markup.

For the first couple of weeks of each semester, we would set up tables underneath the stairway of the Highway Cafeteria at the downtown campus. People would bring us their used books and put whatever price they wanted on them. Others would come by and purchase the books, and we would give the full amount of money to the original owner. Occasionally out of gratitude, they would give us the tip, but we never took any money off the top. Only if you failed to collect your money by the end of the sale did we keep the money ourselves. If there were leftover books, we would box them up and donate them somewhere. I think it was generally to a prison library.

I was heavily involved in the event for several semesters scheduling our members to man the tables. I was always there every free minute that I was at the downtown campus and not in class. It was reasonably rewarding but nothing spectacular.

Somewhere along the way, we had an election of officers, and I ran for president. My pitch was I wasn’t going to be any good going out on service projects such as painting a house for an elderly person or clearing weeds out of a vacant lot to improve a neighborhood. Other than the book exchange, I don’t recall what other kinds of projects we engaged in. But I still felt my skills as an organizer administrator would be my best contribution to the group. I didn’t have any particular agenda about how to make the group better. I wasn’t anxious to be in control. I didn’t want to make a bunch of changes. It just seemed like a logical choice.

There is an old joke (I think it was from Rodney Dangerfield) about the guy who was so disrespected that a measure he voted against was unanimously approved. I was in nearly the same situation. I ran for president unopposed, and I lost.

Well, I was unopposed until five minutes before the election. Some of the members apparently huddled together with an attitude of, “We can’t let this guy run the show.” They talked a guy named Andy into running at the last minute. I lost. One of the members of the previous administration leaked to me that it was “an extremely close vote.” He almost implied that there was something fishy about the vote. They never did release the totals.

There was a regional convention of the fraternity held in Indianapolis in 1975 at a downtown hotel. I attended, and it was kind of fun meeting people from other chapters around the Midwest.

The big controversy at that meeting was that like my chapter, most of the other chapters did not have a house but were given use of space in university buildings. If those universities received federal dollars, and most of them do, then they were subject to federal antidiscrimination rules. There were no racial issues that I was aware of, but unlike my chapter, many of the chapters did not allow women. They were being given a choice either to accept women as full voting members indistinguishable from the men or lose the support of their host university. Even if you had a women’s auxiliary or “Little Sisters” chapter, that wasn’t good enough. Naturally, the excuse of “separate but equal” doesn’t hold up in federal court.

It didn’t affect us because, like I said, we didn’t make any distinction. The women were full members. But it was a major topic of discussion at the convention.

Even though it was primarily a service organization, we had some pretty good parties. There was always a party after the initiation ceremonies for new members, and I went to at least one New Year’s Eve party in which my dad and a bunch of the guys had to carry me up a flight of stairs to a rented community room in an apartment complex. Going up the stairs early in the evening wasn’t so scary. Going back down again at 1 AM when my dad was tired, and many of the guys had been drinking was another thing. There were a couple of other disabled students who pledged the frat one year, both women. I was friendly with them but never got close. They seemed more scared of being carried up and down stairs than I was. I had known these guys for a while, so I trusted them.

Someone decided we should put on a comedy sketch at one of the parties. I wrote some jokes, and so did some of the other guys. We did a version of the classic Abbott and Costello “Who’s on First? routine. It was well received. They asked us to do it again for the next pledge party and it didn’t go as well. A couple of the more Boy Scout-like members thought the comedy was too raunchy. I tried to explain to him we didn’t do anything you couldn’t see on Saturday Night Live any week. In fact, I stole the material from SNL. I also did a Johnny Carson-like “Carnak The Magnificent” routine. He replied, “Well, you can always change the channel if you don’t like something on TV.” I didn’t care. It wasn’t that dirty. Like I said, it was all TV-capable. I told the next year I wouldn’t do it and I wouldn’t recommend anyone doing it.

For me the funniest part was that when the prudish member called us aside to complain about the content he suggested “it was too blue”. One of the younger members who participated had never known what “blue comedy” meant. He thought being “blue” meant it was sad. He didn’t understand the complaint at all and I thought it was hilarious that he thought that blue comedy meant sad jokes.

The only other interesting thing that came out of the experience was at a meeting one evening, an older member of the frat called me aside. He was a big burly guy with a long, hard-to-pronounce Greek name. I think he was actually an alumnus and the older brother of one of our members. He handed me a business card with the words “Order of the Sons of Pericles” on it and said, “If anyone ever gives you any trouble or tries to mess with you or if you ever need anything, call us.”

I thanked him and put the card in my wallet.

I came away wondering, “Am I a made man now?”

I never saw the guy again. I still carry the card in my wallet. I never tried to use it. Years later, I did a Google search. It turns out they are a legitimate service organization. They are a junior auxiliary of a larger organization called the American Hellenistic Educational Progressive Association, which was formed in 1922 as a civil rights organization to counteract the Ku Klux Klan. See the linked Wikipedia article for details. Given that I never heard of them at the time, it sure was a creepy experience. This strange guy comes up to me and says, “If you need anything… we’ll take care of it.” It turns out they are a bunch of good guys.

I remember trying to encourage some of my other classmates. I don’t recall who, to pledge the frat. His reply was, “I want to choose who my friends are. I don’t want to have to be friends with a bunch of guys just because they joined the same organization I joined. What if they are all a bunch of assholes? I’m still expected to treat them like brothers? Count me out.” Maybe he was right. Except for Kathy, which I’m confident I would’ve met anyway, my experience in Alpha Phi Omega left no lasting impact on me, either positive or negative.

Many episodes ago when I was speculating about what I might do if I could live my life over again, the only major decision I would change would be to not waste my time pledging the frat. While I had some good times being part of the organization, overall, I never felt like I got as much out of it as I put into it. So, I could live without the experience.

If you find this podcast educational, entertaining, enlightening, or even inspiring, consider sponsoring me on Patreon for just $5 per month. You will get early access to the podcast and other exclusive content. Although I have some financial struggles, I’m not really in this for money. Still, every little bit helps.

As always, my deepest thanks to my financial supporters. Your support means more to me than words can express.

Even if you cannot provide financial support. Please, please, please post the links and share this podcast on social media so that I can grow my audience. I just want more people to be able to hear my stories.

All of my back episodes are available, and I encourage you to check them out if you’re new to this podcast. If you have any comments, questions, or other feedback, please feel free to comment on any of the platforms where you found this podcast.

I will see you next time as we continue contemplating life. Until then, fly safe.

Contemplating Life – Episode 70 – “Academic Arrogance”

This week we continue with my reminiscence of my college days at IUPUI studying computer science.

Links of Interest

Support us on Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/contemplatinglife
Where to listen to this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/contemplatinglife
YouTube playlist of this and all other episodes: https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLFFRYfZfNjHL8bFCmGDOBvEiRbzUiiHpq

YouTube Version

Shooting Script

Hi, this is Chris Young. Welcome to episode 70 of Contemplating Life.

This week we return to my reminiscence of my college days at IUPUI studying computer science.

It’s been a couple of episodes since we talked about this so I’ll briefly recap. Back in Episode 64, I recounted stories surrounding my sixth semester at IUPUI which was one of the toughest ones I had. I got lost in quantum mechanics and had to drop a physics class. I barely passed an advanced calculus class with a D. I struggled to complete all the programs required for Programming 3 under Dr. John Gersting, Finally, I did a significantly substandard job in a one-on-one independent study project with Mr. Dr. G.

I recounted that I got off to a rocky start with It is rife, Mrs. Dr. Judith Gersting but once we got going, I had a great time in her very challenging class in my seventh semester. I bounced back from that bad year earning an “A” in her class. It was called Discrete Computer Structures CS 482. It was followed up with a companion class CS 484 Computability Theory the following semester with Mrs. Dr. G. which was also quite challenging. I earned a “B” in the follow-up class. I can’t recall which lessons were in which semester. They kind of blurred together.

I should mention that for some time it was obvious I wasn’t going to finish in four years. It was going to take at least one additional semester to get all my requirements. I spoke with the people at Indiana Vocational Rehabilitation and they agreed they could continue to fund me through nine semesters.

My seventh-semester transcript from the fall of 1976 shows that I also took a class called “Arch of Computers CS 402.” Presumably “Arch” was an abbreviation for “Architecture”. It was about the inner workings of computer hardware. When I saw that on my transcript I initially had little or no recollection of that class. I thought that everything I learned about computer hardware was in my first programming class with Dr. Larry Hunter. I told you about jokes that I wrote for him to use in class. Now that I think about it more, there is a good chance those computer hardware jokes I wrote for Dr. Hunter were actually in this CS 402 class. Keep in mind we’re talking about events over 45 years ago. My memory is not very good. The transcript shows I earned a “B”.

This explains a mystery that arose when discussing my college days with my friend Rich. Rich remembers that Dr. Hunter planned his lessons so well that everything he had to write on the blackboard would exactly fit the amount of space available. The blackboards spanned the entire front wall of the classrooms perhaps 20-25 feet wide. One day, we came into class and someone had written something on the far lower right of the blackboard in an area about 3 x 3 feet, drew a box around it, and wrote, “Do not erase.” Hunter was quite frustrated. When he got to the end and needed that extra space, he went back to the upper left side of the blackboard and erased an area of his own work exactly the size of the “Do not erase” area that was in the lower right of the blackboard. He continued writing his notes for the lesson which exactly filled the space. Rich reminded me of that story and he thought that it was Dr. Hunter and I recalled it as well. However, I know for certain that Rich and I did not take CS 220 together because that was in my first year and Rich wasn’t at IUPUI until the following year. So the whole thing took place in CS 402 including the jokes I wrote for Dr. Hunter.

Moving along, the transcript also shows a class called Numerical Methods CS 414. There are some mathematical equations that you cannot solve directly. But using computers, you can approximate the answer, then figure out how big your error is, and then make another guesstimate that is closer. There are slow ways to do it that get your answer eventually but this was a class about advanced ways of solving such equations more efficiently. I enjoyed the course. I remember the guy who taught it but I can’t remember his name.

This course would prove somewhat useful in later years when I worked on an open-source graphics rendering program called the Persistence of Vision Ray-Tracer or POV-Ray for short. Some of the calculations used in ray tracing involve solving high-order polynomial equations using numerical methods. I wasn’t able to apply any of the lessons I’ve learned in this numerical methods class to improve the calculations in POV-Ray but it did help me understand how the rendering program worked. There were other lessons I learned later in college that I was able to apply to the ray tracing program and I will talk about that later.

The remaining class I took that semester was Oscillations and Waves Physics 322. I don’t remember a lot about the class itself but I remember one particularly enjoyable lab experiment we did using a spectrometer.

We’ll think of ordinary lights as being white. In fact, is made up of many different colors of light that can be seen when passing the light through a prism or an etched piece of class known as a diffraction grating. Light consists of electromagnetic waves and the frequency of the wave is perceived by us as its color. A spectrometer splits light into its component frequencies.

Astronomers use spectrography to study what elements are in distant stars and galaxies. Different chemical elements create distinct bands in a spectrograph as the atoms are excited and emit light at specific frequencies. Also, light passing through elements is absorbed in particular bands which appear as dark lines in a spectrograph. For example, the new James Webb Space Telescope looks at starlight as it passes through the atmospheres of extrasolar planets to see what chemicals are in the atmosphere of those planets. Scientists hope to use this information to detect telltale signs of life on these planets by understanding what chemicals are in the atmosphere.

For this lab experiment, we had a collection of gas-filled tubes about 8 inches long and a half inch in diameter. They looked like small neon tubes and in fact one of them did contain neon. You placed them in a socket that would electrically charge them and they would glow in various colors. We would pass that light through a small slit and then onto a diffraction grating. This would split the light into a rainbow of narrow bands. We would measure how much each band was deflected. There was a very long calculation that you would use to compute the deflection angle and that would tell you the frequency of each color band. We would look that up in a table of the frequency bands for known substances and identify what kind of gas was in the tube.

The calculation took about 30 steps on a scientific pocket calculator. I had recently purchased a Hewlett-Packard HP 21 calculator using the money I made by ghost-writing programs for another student who could not complete their assignments by the end of the semester.

One of my classmates, a physics major named John, had the more sophisticated HP 25C programmable calculator. You could program in the formula, enter one or two raw numbers, hit the “run” button, and a few seconds later you had your answer without manually punching in about 30 steps to do the calculations. I said to John, “I bet you sure are enjoying that programmable calculator. It would make this calculation a breeze.”

“I haven’t learned how to use the programmability feature yet. I’m just using it as an ordinary calculator,” he replied.

I was shocked. I said, “Well then trade me calculators for a few minutes. Use my HP 21 and I’ll program your 25.”

He agreed.

Without ever reading a manual on how to program it, I figured it out, programmed in the calculation, put a couple of constant values into two of the registers, entered the raw numbers from each of my observations, hit run, and out came my answer. My lab partner and I finished the entire process in about half the time of anyone else in the room. I thought about deleting the program before swapping calculators back with John but instead, I was gracious and showed him how to run the program so he could complete the rest of his calculations quickly.

This caused me to conclude that there ought to be a worthiness test before you can buy certain electronic gadgets. People who don’t know how to use an advanced calculator ought not to be able to purchase one unless they know what it can do for them.

I feel the same way sometimes about personal computers, 3D printers, cable TV boxes, and smart TVs. I guess I just get jealous when people have better equipment than I can afford but they don’t know how to make full use of it. It seems a waste.

The other situation that freaks me out is when someone buys a new high-tech toy like a computer or a laptop and they don’t take it out of the box for days. They ought to put a timer in such boxes that if you don’t open them and set them up within 24 hours they self-destruct like a Mission Impossible tape recording.

Overall this seventh semester was a good one. I ended up with 4 Bs and an A.

Several times over this podcast, I’ve confessed to some pretty bad attitudes I’ve had and some not-so-noble behavior. We now come to another such story.

There were two different computer departments at IUPUI. I was in computer science designated by the letters CS or sometimes CSCI offered by the School of Science. But there was also a School of Technology that offered a Computer Technology degree abbreviated CPT.

Some of the computer science majors tended to look down on computer technology majors. We were pretty arrogant. Or at least I was and I know there were many others. Our programming classes were heavily geared towards science, engineering, mathematics, and theory. We also concentrated on what is called systems programming. We learned how to write compilers, assemblers, and operating system software. It’s the computer science people who wrote Windows and they wrote the programs that made it possible to write Windows. Computer science people also write application programs such as word processors, spreadsheets, and database managers.

Computer technology classes were focused heavily on business applications written in languages like COBOL and PL/1. COBOL is an acronym standing for COmmon Business Oriented Language. It handles the grunt work of taking data in, which is formatted in a particular way, and producing reports formatted in a particular way. About 80% of a COBOL program is just getting the data in and getting the results back out and only about 20% is devoted to actual calculations.

PL/1 was a programming language invented by IBM designed to combine both business and scientific applications in one language. In the end, it was sort of a bastard child that was not well accepted by either group. The scientific programmers thought it looked too much like COBOL. The business programmers thought it looked too much like FORTRAN or ALGOL. It was also supposed to be good for systems programming such as operating systems and compilers but even IBM had to invent a modified version of the language called PL/S for systems programming because PL/I.

I mentioned previously that one of my classmates had to drop out of school to take a job because his family needed the money. He was going to write COBOL for an insurance company and that was considered a sort of bottom-of-the-barrel low-level job for a big bad computer science major. That was the kind of job computer technology people took. Many of the computer science people felt such work was beneath us.

My buddy Frank was in CPT rather than CS and I often wondered why he took what I thought was the lesser road. The truth is CPT students were just as smart as the CS students but there was a rivalry there born out of arrogance. They probably thought us to be a bunch of elitist snobs… which we were.

I’m not at all proud of that condescending attitude. I don’t mean to say that everyone in computer science felt that way but I am confident many did.

It wasn’t just academic arrogance on my part. I just thought that systems programming as well as scientific and engineering programming would be much more interesting than business-oriented programming. I thought there were good opportunities for me in that field. There is a facility on the east side of Indianapolis called Naval Avionics. They make weapon systems for the US military and would likely hire someone like me with a computer science degree and a second major in physics. I also might be destined for a job with a pharmaceutical company like Eli Lilly however I had no experience in chemistry. So, that might be a problem.

Of course, at the time, no one knew how big personal computers would be and that PC software would be my primary focus.

Although we studied business programming languages COBOL and PL/1 in Dr. John Gersting’s Bible study class (recall that we referred to his textbook as the Bible), we only spent a couple of weeks on each of those languages. I felt the amount of time we devoted to them was indicative of their perceived value to us.

I remember we had a humorous poem we passed around that was the ABCs of computer science. I only remember a couple of verses. One of them was, “C is for COBOL. Oh, what a pity. It was designed by a committee.”

The other one I recall was, “L is for languages. Using these three: Fortran, Pascal, and RPG. Avoid all others and my friends shun, those with the suffix L slash One.”

Even though I looked down on business-related programming and the entire CPT department, I thought I needed a fallback plan in case I couldn’t get a scientific or engineering programming job. So for my eighth semester, I took two courses in computer technology. One was the dreaded COBOL CPT 265 and the other was in the only slightly less dreaded PL/I CPT 360. I found them very boring. I never had any use for anything I learned in either of the classes. I got a “B” in the PL/I class. Much to my shock, my transcript says I dropped the COBOL class. I don’t remember doing that. I thought the physics class I dropped was the only one. I must’ve dropped it pretty early because I don’t remember much at all about the COBOL class.

In my eighth and ninth semesters, I began taking graduate-level courses. These courses are numbered in the 500-600 range. Some people warned me, “Don’t do that because if you come back for your Master’s or PhD you won’t have enough classes available. You will have already taken everything they have to offer.” As I mentioned previously, the computer science department was quite new. The curriculum was not very extensive. They only offered a minimal number of courses to complete the degree. My reply was, “I’m not in this for academic glory. For me, this is just job training. I could’ve gone to a technical school to learn programming or gotten a CPT degree but I figure that given my disability I need every advantage I can get. I want the prestige of that Bachelor of Science degree but once I get that, I’m headed straight for the workforce and never going back.”

In my eighth semester in addition to the 2 CPT classes I took CS 502 Compile and Prog Systems which I don’t know exactly what that involved. The title is so abbreviated in the transcript, I can’t make sense of it. I also took that second semester of computability theory with Mrs. Dr. G.

My final class in my eighth semester was Statistics 511. It covered both probability and statistics which I thought I might need someday for simulations and for data analysis. It was taught by a graduate student or teaching assistant who lived in Bloomington and would commute to Indianapolis to teach the class two evenings per week. Note that a semester is 15 weeks long. At about the second week, he asked if the class would agree to meet for a double class once a week. We all agreed. We had some nasty weather that winter and on at least two occasions he canceled class because he couldn’t make it up from Bloomington. I don’t remember if those cancellations were single or double classes.

On the evenings when he did manage to show up, he generally only kept us for about a class and a half. My guess is that we ended up with barely 50% of the amount of class time we should have had. I would also guess we only covered a third of the material in the course. We didn’t get around to the midterm exam until about two-thirds of the way through the class and I think he never did give us a final exam. He just used our midterm grade as our final grade. Most of what we covered was probability. We didn’t get very far into statistics. Being a lifelong poker player I already knew a lot about probability. For me, it was an easy “A”. It’s a good thing I never needed anything that was supposed to be taught in the class.

The biggest thing that happened in my eighth semester was that I started applying for legitimate jobs as a programmer. We’ll talk about that experience in the next episode wherein my mentor Dr. John Gersting plays a key role.

If you find this podcast educational, entertaining, enlightening, or even inspiring, consider sponsoring me on Patreon for just $5 per month. You will get early access to the podcast and other exclusive content. Although I have some financial struggles, I’m not really in this for money. Still, every little bit helps.

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I will see you next week as we continue contemplating life. Until then, fly safe.

Contemplating Life – Episode 64 – “Young’s Theorem”

This week we continue with my reminiscence of my college days at IUPUI studying computer science especially stories surrounding my mentor Dr. John Gersting and his wife Dr. Judith Gersting.

Links of Interest

Support us on Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/contemplatinglife
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YouTube playlist of this and all other episodes: https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLFFRYfZfNjHL8bFCmGDOBvEiRbzUiiHpq

YouTube Version

Shooting Script

Hi, this is Chris Young. Welcome to episode 64 of Contemplating Life.

This week we continue with my reminiscence of my college days at IUPUI studying computer science especially stories surrounding my mentor Dr. John Gersting and his wife Dr. Judith Gersting. I apologize in advance that this is going to be a long episode.

We now continue with my sixth semester at IUPUI. My transcript says I took MATH 361 “Advanced Calculus and Differential Equations”. By now the math was getting pretty hairy and I never really got a feel for calculus and differential equations. I snuck by with a “D”.

I also took Physics 342 “Modern Physics” which involved Einstein’s special and general relativity as well as quantum mechanics. While I enjoyed the lab portion of the class, I never could wrap my head around quantum mechanics. The more I learned about relativity, the less impressed I became with Einstein. He had such a pop-culture image of being this amazing genius but I learned that as is the case in all scientific pursuits, much of what he did was simply an extension of the work of people before him.

We learned about the famous Michelson-Morley experiment which proved that the speed of light in a vacuum is constant. As a consequence of that experiment, Dutch physicist Hendrik Lorentz derived the famous Lorenz Transformations which describe how time dilates and length changes as you approach the speed of light. I had always thought these derivations came from Einstein but they actually came from Lorentz as a result of Michelson and Morley.

The problem was, nobody understood the significance of those works. It took Einstein who had the courage to throw out a bunch of preconceived ideas of how physics worked to really understand the significance of these previous discoveries. Then that led him to develop both special and general relativity. So while I give him props for following the data where it led him despite the fact it blew up centuries of science before that, Einstein really didn’t do that much in my opinion.

Furthermore, as a third-year college physics student, I was expected to fully understand relativity. None of us in that class, especially me, could be described as a physics genius. Yet I came away with a pretty good understanding of relativity. Relativity is bizarre and counterintuitive but once someone figured it out, it does not take a genius to understand it. Just a well-educated college physics student.

I didn’t do so well when it came to quantum mechanics. The idea that something could be simultaneously a particle and a wave is something that physicists still can’t explain to this day. The problem I had was if it was a wave, what was the medium? Scientists used to believe there was something called ether. Electromagnetic waves were thought to be vibrations in this invisible medium. But Michelson and Morley proved that there is no ether.

I wanted to bring back the concept of ether. I just couldn’t wrap my head around the idea of vibrating energy without the medium. Not only was I way off base, but in some ways, I was ahead of my time. I think I was on the verge of inventing string theory. String theory is the idea that all matter consists of vibrating strings of energy. String theorists don’t say what the strings are made of. So the problem persists. Whether it’s vibrating strings or electromagnetic waves, what exactly is the medium? What is it that is vibrating? No one can tell me. Although the origins of string theory date back to 1943, it wasn’t until around 1984 that physicists started getting excited when they began to believe that string theory could accurately model all of the elementary particles of the standard model of physics as well as the interaction between them.

Proponents of string theory have yet to produce anything useful. It seems to be the general consensus that there is no experiment you can do to prove string theory so although it had some interesting potential, it hasn’t fulfilled its promise. People who still work on the theory are often ridiculed by mainstream physicists.

Had I been better at math and physics, I might’ve gotten into the field of string theory and spent decades producing nothing useful. Fortunately for me, I was getting Ds in calculus and differential equations and I got so confused in this physics class that I ended up withdrawing from it. It’s the only class that I did not complete in college.

Somewhere along the way, the School of Science changed its basic requirements for a degree. They lowered some of the liberal arts requirements which I had already met. I don’t remember the details, but it was to my advantage to switch to the new curriculum. I think it saved me from a couple of liberal arts classes but I had to take a class in public speaking. I enjoyed it and earned a B. I could tell you more about that class but it wasn’t that interesting for our storytelling purposes.

We want to resume talking about my computer classes under my mentor Dr. John Gersting.

CS 461 “Programming 3” was the class I talked about last week in which Gersting told us we had to teach ourselves the course. The title of the book that he wrote was “Algorithmic Languages” and it was a brief survey of I believe 5 or 6 computer languages. There were a few introductory chapters, and then a chapter on each language. At the end of each chapter, there was a programming assignment, and as I mentioned before quizzes and tests that you had to pass 100% before you could go on.

The only deadline was that we had to complete the course by the end of the semester. He posted a chart outside his office that showed where everyone in the class was. A semester lasted 15 weeks. There was one guy who finished the entire course in about three weeks. We all considered him a show-off or a brown nose. All of the rest of us including me and my friend Rich went through the course at a leisurely rate. We would look at the chart and notice that we were all in approximately the same position. It didn’t occur to us until almost too late that we were not going to finish in time. Comparing ourselves to one another was a really bad idea because we were all doing terribly. More on that in a minute.

The book that Gersting wrote was a phenomenal reference book. We began referring to it as “The Bible” because it had all the answers. Then one day I said, “Actually, it’s not the entire Bible. It’s just ‘The Gospel According to John.’” I wrote that across the top of my book but I don’t know if Dr. John Gersting ever saw it.

There was one programming assignment where I got a D from Gersting. I don’t recall if it was in Programming 2 or Programming 3. I tried to raise a negative number to an exponent that was a floating-point number. For example, if you take 2 to the power of 2 that is just 2 squared which equals 4. Similarly, you can take -2 to the power of 2 and that also equals 4. No problem. Now suppose you take 9 to the power of 0.5. That’s just the square root so the answer is 3. But what if you try to take -9 to the power of 0.5 you can’t do that. Mathematically it’s undefined.

The compiler or the runtime system should’ve created an error but it didn’t. It gave an answer of -3. So essentially it took the square root of +9 and then just tacked on the minus sign.

I complained when he gave me a D. I said, “The compiler and the runtime system let me do it.” His response was, “If the guy who wrote the compiler was in my class I would have flunked him. But instead, you get a D. Are you still going to pass the class with one low grade on one project?”

“Yes.”

“Are you ever going to raise a negative number to a floating-point exponent again?”

“No.”

“Case closed. The D stands.”

The bottom line is, he was very tough but he was fair. I came up with an adage, “The only thing more difficult than a guy who thought he wrote the book on the subject was the guy who did write the book on the subject.”

Rich later amended that theory. He topped it when he went into an advanced math class and on the first day the teacher had them open up the textbook and read the acknowledgments page. The author thanked someone for proofreading the book and catching many errors. The proofreader was Rich’s math professor. So Rich said, “Worse than a guy who thinks he wrote the book on the subject and worse than the guy who did write the book on the subject is the guy who was so smart he could catch the mistakes in the guy who wrote the book on the subject.” He had me there.

One of the most significant events in my relationship with Dr. Gersting occurred one day when I went to his office to give him a progress report on my independent study project. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much to report. I was lagging way behind on the project. Anyway, when I offered to fill him in on my progress, such as it was, he said he was on his way to the teachers’ lounge to eat dinner and invited me to sit with him and talk. It’s not like I was being let into some supersecret off-limits area. But it wasn’t somewhere that students normally went. I gave my report, such as it was, and then he started sort of rambling about the students in our class. I don’t remember the name of the student he was talking about. We will call him Joe.

“Did you notice Joe hasn’t been in class lately?” He noted.

“Yeah, now that you mention it. Is he sick?”

“No, he’s dropping out. His wife is expecting their first child. He was offered a position writing COBOL for an insurance company so he felt like he had to take it.” That type of job was considered sort of the bottom of the barrel for computer programmers–especially computer science majors. You could sense how disappointed he was. He stared into space for a moment and then continued. “My worry is he will never come back to complete his education. You’re fortunate that your education is being paid for because of your disability and you don’t have responsibilities distracting you from your education.”

I suddenly saw a completely different side of the man. He was so harsh on us because he wanted the best for us. I suddenly realized how deeply he cared for his students. He cared about their life and their career. And most of all he cared about me. He was thinking about my future.

I was struggling to complete the independent study project to create the operating system for our computer simulator. Furthermore, my Programming 3 class was not going well either. Part of the purpose of the course was to teach us self-discipline. In the real world, you only have one deadline. Finish the entire project on time. We kept looking at the chart thinking we were doing as well as everyone else but when it came down to the wire we were all in trouble.

By the way, Gersting once said, “I don’t think God created the world in six days. I think he thought about it for five days and then pulled an all-nighter.” I think being a procrastinator comes with the mentality of a programmer. We pulled lots of all-nighters to finish on time. That’s why I was so sympathetic to the gal who hired me to help her with her last-minute programming assignments that I talked about a couple of episodes ago.

The computer room was always packed in the final days of the semester and it was hard to find a free teletype machine to log in. I remember sitting there with Rich just a couple of hours before the final deadline. I barely got mine finished. Rich had his program working but he needed to print out a final copy. The teletype he was working on broke down. It would print but at the end of each line, it would not advance the paper. It just kept printing on top of the same text over and over again. You had to guess when it was going to do a carriage return and then crank the knob by hand. The result was a printout that went all over the page but at least you could read it. With just minutes to spare we rushed from the computer room in the A-Building to Gersting’s office in the K-Building. There was a line of students trying to turn things in at the last minute. I remember Gersting looking at Rich’s output and saying, “What the hell happened here?” Rich explained about the broken teletype. I don’t recall what grade he got but I think he did okay. I ended up with a “B”.

This semester was undoubtedly the most difficult semester that I had. In addition to this programming class, I had that independent study project with Dr. Gersting. I was supposed to write the operating system for the computer simulator we had worked on the previous year. I barely got the job done and wrote a ridiculously brief report. He easily could have failed me in class or given me an incomplete but he didn’t.

The pressure of having to drop a physics class, getting a poor grade in calculus, rushing to complete Programming 3, and doing a piss-poor job in my independent study class nearly led me to a nervous breakdown.

When I eventually graduated and got a full-time job, people asked me if it was going to be hard to work full-time. I said, “Hell no. 40 hours per week will be a piece of cake compared to what I’ve been through. College is a 24/7 endeavor. There’s always another chapter you could reread. There’s always another program you could’ve written better. There’s always another test you should cram for. Even if you think you’ve gotten everything done, you haven’t. The pressure is constant. Being able to walk away from a job at 5 PM each day and leave it behind me until the next a and to have my weekends completely free is going to be magnificent compared to what I’ve been through.”

The following semester, I had a class with Dr. John Gersting’s wife Dr. Judith Gersting. It was called “Discrete Computer Structures CS 482.” It wouldn’t be the first day in a class with a Dr. Gersting without me getting shrouded like Mr. Hart did by Prof. Kingsfield in “The Paper Chase.”

Before the first class began, one of my classmates and I were talking. “Hey Chris, how did that independent study project go with Dr. G.?”

“It was a disaster. I barely got any reasonable amount of work done. I ended up throwing together a report at the last minute and turning it in. He GAVE me a C for the course.” I put a strong emphasis on the word “gave”.

Then I heard a voice calmly declare, “It was a gift you know.”

I turned around to notice that Dr. Judith Gersting was standing at the front of the classroom. The comment came from her.

“What?” I said.

“It was a gift that he gave you a C.”

“I know that,” I muttered. “It was a gift.”

I did know it was a gift. He could’ve easily flunked me.

Inside I was freaking out. I had a new version for the worst teacher scenario. It’s not so bad when the teacher writes the book on the subject. It’s not even so bad when your teacher is so smart they can correct the mistakes of the guy who wrote the book on the subject. Worse than all of that is when you have teachers who are married to one another and you are the subject of conversation between them. My reputation was preceeding me and it wasn’t a good one.

In retrospect, it was arguably a positive thing. Mr. Dr. G. had my best interests at heart. He knew I’d done poorly but he wasn’t going to crash my GPA or have me come up short and not graduate on time. I probably deserved a D rather than an F because I did complete the work. But it was seriously substandard. The fact that he was willing to give me a break knowing that I would do better in the future was positive. Furthermore, the fact that he had communicated that to Mrs. Dr. G. was arguably also a positive. But it was hard to see that at the time. At that moment, I just felt like I had been shrouded by Mrs. Kingsfield.

The course was a highly advanced computing theory class in which we discussed things like Turing machines which were a hypothetical computer invented by computing pioneer Alan Turing. His life was chronicled in the 2014 film “The Imitation Game.” Turing was played by Benedict Cumberbatch. He was a mathematician who invented the machine that cracked the German enigma code and saved thousands of lives in World War II. Yet he was stripped of all of his honors for being a homosexual. He ended up killing himself.

I drew a cartoonish image of a Turing machine on the front of my notebook that caught the eye of Mrs. Dr. Gersting. She thought it was cute.

I will never forget the most challenging yet rewarding homework assignment that I had in my 4 and-one-half years of college. It simply said…

“Show that there are only two non-isomorphic groups of order four.”

Unless you had some advanced math and/or computability courses you are probably completely clueless about what that sentence means. At the time, so was I. And so were several of my classmates. Some of them were graduate students taking the class. For me, the course was CS 482 but for graduate students, it was called CS 582. The undergrads and grads took the course together.

Without going into a bunch of mathematics that is unimportant, let me give this summary. There is this mathematical concept called a “group”. It’s a way to take several objects as operators, perform some function upon them, and come out with an answer that is a member of that group. Rather than try to explain it here, I found a YouTube video that solves this exact question in almost precisely the way that I and my fellow students figured it out. It took us hours to do so but there was a phenomenal sense of satisfaction that we a taken such an obscure problem and managed to figure it out.

Given that I found so many web pages and YouTube videos attempting to answer the same question, it must still be a standard question for such courses today.

The question said, “Show that there are only two non-isomorphic groups of order four.”

It didn’t say prove it. Because you don’t prove it. It said “Show it” and we did. It’s not like proving a theorem. It’s something that simply is.

Some things are just true. You can demonstrate that they are true. Some things are false. You can demonstrate that. This led me to create what I called “Young’s Theorem.” The theorem states, “If it is, it is. If it isn’t, it isn’t. The proof is… Is it? Then it is. Is it not? Then it is not.”

It’s silly. I understand that. But it was my expression of my satisfaction that I took a wildly hypothetical, marginally useful, mathematical question and came up with an answer when my initial assessment was I had no idea what the fuck they were asking. And that led me to the understanding that for the most part, you can figure things out. True things are true. False things are false.

Well… Naturally, it’s more complicated than that. Later in the course, we learned that there is an entire class of problems that cannot be solved. It’s called computability theory. Some things simply cannot be solved by a computer. The primary example is you can’t write a computer program that will analyze another computer program to tell you definitively will that program will complete its task and stop. It’s sort of the mathematical equivalent of the question, “If God is all-powerful, can He create an object so massive that He can’t lift it?” If he can create such an object. Then He is not all-powerful because He can’t lift it. If He cannot create such an object, then He is not all-powerful.”

Years later this paradox led me to create a joke.

There are two kinds of people in the world and I can prove it.

There is one group of people that believes that there are two kinds of people in the world. There is another group of people who do not believe that there are two kinds of people in the world. So there. I just proved there are two kinds of people.

But because I proved it, there should no longer be people who do not believe that there are two kinds of people because I’ve given definitive proof that there definitively are two kinds of people. But once I’ve convinced everyone that there are two kinds of people. There are no longer two kinds of people. There are only people who do believe that there are two kinds of people because they accepted my proof.

But now, that is no longer true because everyone now believes that there are two kinds of people which means there’s only one kind of person– namely those that believe. But they are wrong.

And so on with infinite circular reasoning.

So who knows… In an alternate universe. I might have been a pioneer of string theory and solved the ultimate theory of everything. But I didn’t have sufficient math background to prove it and apparently, no one else does either or if they did, string theory would be widely accepted as the theory that explains all of physics.

Or I might have become famous for describing what is the worst kind of teacher to have when you are an insecure college student. (I vote that having 2 teachers married to each other is still the worst.)

Or people could have bought into my ridiculous Young’s Theorem that true is true and false is false no matter how trivial that observation is. That would be particularly useful these days when our political discourse includes ridiculous phrases such as “alternate facts”.

That’s the kind of insanity that arises when you are overwhelmed as a college student. Fortunately, I had the Gerstings guiding me through that insanity and somehow I came out on the other end okay.

We are going to go off-topic next week to celebrate my history as a fan of motorsports because we are coming up on the month of May in Indianapolis which is the time of the Indy 500. After that, we are going to return to my college stories and eventually, the Gerstings will play a big role in those stories as well. I don’t want to skip ahead and tell those stories now. I will tell them in chronological order with the other events of my life at that time.

If you find this podcast educational, entertaining, enlightening, or even inspiring, consider sponsoring me on Patreon for just $5 per month. You will get early access to the podcast and other exclusive content. Although I have some financial struggles, I’m not really in this for money. Still, every little bit helps.

As always, my deepest thanks to my financial supporters. Your support means more to me than words can express.

Even if you cannot provide financial support. Please, please, please post the links and share this podcast on social media so that I can grow my audience. I just want more people to be able to hear my stories.

All of my back episodes are available and I encourage you to check them out if you’re new to this podcast. If you have any comments, questions, or other feedback please feel free to comment on any of the platforms where you found this podcast.

I will see you next week as we continue contemplating life. Until then, fly safe.

Contemplating Life – Episode 63 – “The Paper Chase”

After taking a brief detour last week for a political rant, this week we return to more stories about my college days as a computer science major at IUPUI. We begin a multi-part series about my mentor and favorite professor Dr. John Gersting.

Links of Interest

Support us on Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/contemplatinglife
Where to listen to this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/contemplatinglife
YouTube playlist of this and all other episodes: https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLFFRYfZfNjHL8bFCmGDOBvEiRbzUiiHpq

YouTube Version

https://youtu.be/DXwL7kfxIlw

Shooting Script

Hi, this is Chris Young. Welcome to episode 63 of Contemplating Life.

After taking a brief detour last week for a political rant, this week we return to more stories about my college days as a computer science major at IUPUI. I want to talk about my mentor and favorite professor Dr. John Gersting.

We will start with my fifth semester. According to my transcript, I took American History H105 to help fill part of my liberal arts requirements for a School of Science degree. In general, I always hated history in grade school and high school because I could never remember dates. You give me an event and I can explain most of its political and sociological significance. On the contrary, if you ask me when it occurred unless it was the War of 1812 I am probably clueless. Even though I was terrible at history, US history was my strongest area and I managed to earn a B for the course. I believe this was the last class I took at the downtown campus. Everything else going forward was on 38th St. for the rest of my college days.

The transcript says, I took Elementary Linear Algebra MATH 351 and earned a C. I took Physics 251 titled Heat, Electricity, and Optics but I remember it mostly having to deal with optics. I don’t recall who taught it but I enjoyed it and earned a B. And most important another programming class. I took CS 320 Programming 2 from Dr. John Gersting.

Before I tell you about that class with Dr. Gersting, I need to tell you of a couple of encounters I had with him before I ever took a class from him.

On the third floor of the K-building, there was a small room about the size of a large supply closet called the “Calculations Lab.” I first spoke about it in episode 43. At one end sat an ASR 33 Teletype that was connected to the university’s DEC-System-10 computer. I’ve talked previously that we used to go in there and play text-based computer games of different types. There were also several very expensive programmable calculators on a table in the room.

One day, I wrote a program in the computer language known as BASIC to see how long it would take to count to 1 million. It had 6 loops that counted from 1 to 10. The loops were nested inside one another so the entire process would eventually count to 1 million. It would print out a message every 100,000 to let me know how it was doing.

While the program was running, someone sat down at one of the tables and began using a programmable calculator. I thought he was a teacher but I wasn’t sure. He was behind me I could only see him out of the corner of my eye. I’m pretty sure I asked if he needed the teletype because I always did that when I was goofing off. I might not have asked this guy because he went straight for the calculator. A few minutes later, one of my friends walked in and asked what I was doing, “What are you up to? Playing Star Trek again?”

“No,” I replied. I wrote a program to count to 1 million and I’m seeing how long it takes to run. Do you need the machine?”

“No. I was just going to goof around myself. Let me know how it turns out.”

“Will do.”

After about 20 or 30 minutes, I gave up. It had not yet even reached 100,000.

Now you might ask, “Aren’t computers faster than that?” Well, this program was written in BASIC which is an interpreted language. That means every time it reads a statement written in the BASIC language, it has to parse each statement every time it is executed and figure out what it means. This is in contrast to programs written in languages like FORTRAN in which the program is read once by a compiler, translated into machine language, and that machine language is what actually executes. In other words, BASIC is ungodly slow. Who knows. Maybe I made a mistake somewhere and the thing was caught in an infinite loop and never was going to finish.

Fast-forward to sometime later… maybe a month or so I don’t recall. I was hanging out with my friend Dennis Adams one day. We introduced you to Dennis back in episode 26. He was my friend from high school who first got me involved in computers by carrying a teletype machine downstairs from the math department at Northwest High School so that I could use a computer for the first time. Dennis is a year older than me so he had already been at IUPUI in the computer science department for a year before I arrived.

Dennis was working on an independent study project with one of the professors and he needed to stop by his office to drop something off. Dennis said, “I’m working with Dr. John Gersting. You will eventually get lots of classes with him. I really like him a lot and I think you’ll like him too.” An endorsement from Dennis was high praise so I was anxious to meet the guy but I waited outside his office while Dennis went in. The professor was either talking to another professor or was on the phone talking to them – I couldn’t tell. He was speaking in a loud and gruff voice saying, “Yeah it’s no wonder the system runs so damn slow. We’ve got all these idiots in there playing games and running programs to count to 1 million just to see how long it takes!”

Oh, shit! He was the guy using the programmable calculator the day I was in there trying to run 1 million loops. I was going to have this guy for many of my programming classes and he already had a terrible opinion of me. I was doomed.

That was sometime during my first or second year. But now it was time to actually take a class with Dr. Gersting and I wasn’t looking forward to it.

On the first day, it was a slight relief to note that his loud voice and somewhat gruff manner were his normal state. He was a tall slim man with sandy brown hair. He wore a bolo tie with a turquoise clasp. I believe he was also wearing boots. With this Southwestern attire, he reminded me a little bit of Clint Eastwood perhaps as his iconic character Dirty Harry. I later learned that Gersting studied at Arizona State University but I don’t know if that’s where he’s from originally. But that explains his Southwest attire.

The first day of class he gave a big speech about how demanding he was going to be. I could imagine him saying, “Go ahead make my day. Fail my class.”

Although he looked like Clint Eastwood, that opening speech was also reminiscent of another iconic grumpy character from one of my favorite films. The 1973 movie “The Paper Chase” was about a first-year Harvard law student named Mr. Hart. In that film, John Hausman portrayed a harish and demanding contract law professor named Charles W. Kingsfield Jr. Hausman won the Best Supporting Actor Oscar for the role. Much-deserved. On the first day of class, Kingsfield famously delivers a monologue in which he says, “You teach yourselves the law but I train your mind. You come in here with a skull full of mush and you leave thinking like a lawyer.”

Gersting’s speech was quite similar, especially in a similar speech he gave the following semester for my Programming 3 class. In that class, he handed us a textbook that he had written. It wasn’t a professionally published textbook rather it was of stack of Xeroxed pages bound together with a paper fastener.

He declared, “I’m not going to teach you this course. You are going to teach it to yourself. I wrote this book. Everything you need to know is in this book. I’m not going to read it to you. I’m not going to lecture from it. Some teachers supplement the book with their lectures but everything you need is in the book. If there was something else you needed to know I would’ve put it there.

“When you complete a chapter, you come into class and take a quiz. You must pass the quiz with a 100% score. If you do not pass 100% you cannot continue. Why would I let you go on to the next topic when you have not yet mastered the previous topic? There are three versions of each quiz. If you fail all three of them, then we will sit down and have a long talk about whether or not you should be in this class.

“One of the reasons you are going to teach yourselves this course is that that’s what will happen in the real world. The minute you leave this institution with your degree, most of what we taught you will be obsolete because the computer industry is evolving so quickly. And even if it doesn’t change, every computer facility has its own standards and procedures. You will have to deal with existing programs that have been written by other people and you will have to learn what that code does. The first day when you walk into a job they’re going to hand you a pile of computer manuals about 2 feet thick and they are going to say, ‘Here… learn this.’ I’m not going to teach you programming. I’m going to teach you to teach yourselves programming.”

In other words, he was saying just what Kingsfield said in that film. “You teach yourselves to write code but I train your mind. You come in here with a skull full of mush and you leave thinking like a programmer.”

John Hausman reprised his role as Prof. Kingsfield in a TV series also called “The Paper Chase.” In the opening episode, Mr. Hart was unprepared for the first day of class. He was expecting a lecture but didn’t realize that a reading assignment had been posted on the bulletin boards in the dormitories and he was expected to have read material before the first class. When Kingsfield discovered that Mr. Hart was unprepared he placed over him an imaginary burial shroud.

Kingsfield: You see this.This is a shroud, Mr. Hart. A shroud. A burial garment. A winding sheet. For the dead. This is for you, Mr. Hart. The late Mr. Hart.

After that, Kingsfield refused to engage Mr. Hart in any of the Socratic dialogue sessions in the class.

Even though I didn’t make any giant mistakes the first day of class like Mr. Hart did, I felt like I already had a strike against me after Kingsfield… Whoops I mean… after Gersting had already branded me as an idiot who just wanted to play games and run a million loops to see how long it would take.

I linked a scene from the movie version of “The Paper Chase” as well as the entire first episode of the TV series which I found on YouTube. You will find the links in the description.

The first programming class I had with Dr. Gersting was CS 320 Programming 2. It taught us additional programming skills in FORTRAN. The primary purpose however was to show how to work in a group setting. We had a massive programming project that would take us the entire semester to complete.

Each year, Gersting came up with a different programming project for his class to work on. One previous year they wrote a piece of software to do the scoring for a car collectors show. Gersting had a collection of a couple of classic Ford Thunderbirds. He had restored the cars in his spare time and would show them off at classic car meets. The scoring system for these competitions was quite complex so he had his class write the software to handle the task. It was free labor. He probably could’ve written the program himself in a few days but it was a good project for the class.

This year, however, we had a completely different project. We were going to create a simulated computer. The project was called IPICS which stood for Indiana Purdue at Indianapolis Computer Simulator.

Gersting had invented an imaginary computer that used its own machine language that he also invented. The set of machine language instructions illustrated the variety of types of machine instructions that you would find in a real computer. It was designed to teach computer hardware architecture to future generations of computer science students. Our job was to bring this imaginary machine to life not with actual circuits but as a simulation.

The project was divided up into different tasks and we worked in groups of 2-4 students each. We had to create and test our portion of the code and write it to an overall standard that he established. Then, near the end of the semester, one representative from each team met with him on a Saturday afternoon as he took all of our different pieces of code written independently and tried to link them together into one massive program. It was an excellent example of how large programming projects work in the real world.

As I refer, my team which I think consisted of only two people was the smallest group with one of the smallest tasks. We had to simulate input and output processes. We had to translate numbers and letters from an internal system to standard ASCII characters and output them to the terminal. For input, we had to take ASCII text and translate it into the internal format used by the computer.

Throughout the semester, Gersting lightened up and you could joke around with him. He was a much nicer guy than he appeared that day. I remember the day we all gathered to integrate all of our pieces of the program. Someone in the computer room was showing off something they had produced on the computer’s plotter. A plotter was a computer-controlled device that had a pen mounted in it and a roll of tracing paper. The computer would move the paper forward and backward and move the pen side-to-side while lifting it up and down. You could use it to draw anything. It was sort of like a computer-controlled Etch-a-Sketch. It was mostly used for graphing mathematical functions. I had played around with it a little bit just for fun and not as a part of any assignment. I was already interested in computer graphics that early in my career.

I joked with the other students, “One of these days I’m going to use the computer plotter to draw an image of a Russian flag. Then I’m going to smear it with dirt. I will frame it and label it, ‘This is a dirty commie plot’” Gersting let out a loud groan at my terrible pun. It proved to me he did have a sense of humor after all.

After an hour or so, he got the program to compile and link as a single module. It wouldn’t do very much but it worked. The next step of the process was to write an operating system. There was a method to partition the memory into different areas. The operating system would run in protected memory and the application program would run in general memory.

I went to Gersting and asked him if he would take me on in an independent study course where my goal would be to write the operating system for IPICS. He agreed.

So, for my sixth semester, I had CS 490 ”Topics in CS for Undergrads” as well as CS 461 “Programming 3” both with Dr. John Gersting. We will talk about that in next week’s episode. In fact it’s probably going to take a couple of more episodes to tell the entire story of my relationship with this amazing man and his wife Dr. Judith Gersting who was also a CS professor and eventually appointed chairman of the department.

The Gerstings moved to Hawaii and taught there for a while but then returned to Indianapolis and are currently still serving as professor emeritus in the computer and information sciences program.

So stay tuned for more of the Gersting Chronicles.

If you find this podcast educational, entertaining, enlightening, or even inspiring, consider sponsoring me on Patreon for just $5 per month. You will get early access to the podcast and other exclusive content. Although I have some financial struggles, I’m not really in this for money. Still, every little bit helps.

As always, my deepest thanks to my financial supporters. Your support means more to me than words can express.

Even if you cannot provide financial support. Please, please, please post the links and share this podcast on social media so that I can grow my audience. I just want more people to be able to hear my stories.

All of my back episodes are available and I encourage you to check them out if you’re new to this podcast. If you have any comments, questions, or other feedback please feel free to comment on any of the platforms where you found this podcast.

I will see you next week as we continue contemplating life. Until then, fly safe.

Contemplating Life – Episode 61 – “Logan’s Run”

This week we continue my nostalgic look back at my college days and discuss the great friendships I had some of which continue to this day.

Links of Interest

Support us on Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/contemplatinglife
Where to listen to this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/contemplatinglife
YouTube playlist of this and all other episodes: https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLFFRYfZfNjHL8bFCmGDOBvEiRbzUiiHpq

YouTube Version

Shooting Script

Hi, this is Chris Young. Welcome to episode 61 of Contemplating Life.

This week I want to talk about some of the great friendships I had in my college days. As I mentioned last episode, this is a difficult one to write because it’s about people who are still an active part of my life. While I like these stories to be “tell all”, especially when it gives me a chance to confess some of my stupid behavior, some stories are better left private.

As I’ve mentioned in previous episodes, we didn’t have a regular cafeteria in the K-Building at the 38th St. campus of IUPUI. It was just a big lunch room with lots of tables and chairs. Adjacent to it was a vending machine room where you could get stale ham and cheese sandwiches, horrible pizza, snack food, and soft drinks. There was a microwave oven you could use to heat up whatever you purchased.

The room also became a hangout for a group of friends to socialize. Early in the morning someone would break out a deck of cards and start a euchre game. Sometimes the game would last until dinnertime. People would come and go and take your place if you had to go study or go to class.

There was a crazy guy named Mark who was a tall blonde-haired guy who talked way too loud and often said very embarrassing and misogynistic things that occasionally made you embarrassed to be at the same table with him. But except for his unfortunate lack of a filter, he was a really great guy and the life of the party.

There was another guy named Kevin who was fortunately much more restrained than Mark but still a fun guy. Very smart. I don’t recall what his major was.

There was a guy named Gilley who would come to school with a cup of coffee from White Castle that he had spiked with some sort of alcohol. Even at 10 AM, you could smell alcohol on his breath. Extremely intelligent and very fun to be around. A talented card player. My guess is he probably dropped out at some point because of his drinking but I don’t know that for a fact.

There were a few women in the group. Sadly I don’t remember most of their names. There was a friendly gal named Cindy who had short red hair and rode a motorcycle. We went out to the movies and to dinner a couple of times but it never got serious.

I’ve lost touch with all of these people. I’ve tried doing Google searches and Facebook searches but most of their names are just too common. You get lots of people with the same name.

We’ve already talked at length about my late friend Mike Gregory who was part of this motley crew.

There was a computer technology major named Frank Williams who was a good buddy. Computer technology is slightly different than computer science which was my major. The details aren’t important right now. Frank is an excellent keyboard player. He had his own band in college or shortly thereafter. I went with my friends Rich and Kathy to hear him play at some bar on the east side when time. I think Frank sees himself as a Billy Joel-type person. He played lots of Billy Joel’s songs and also could play a few Keith Emerson pieces from the band Emerson, Lake, and Palmer. Keith Emerson is my favorite rock ‘n’ roll keyboard player.

Frank liked to call me Christopher even though I repeatedly told him that my actual name is just Chris. To retaliate, I decided to start calling him Frankfurter. I told him, “If you can put a ‘topher’ on the end of my name I can put a ‘furter’ on the end of your name.” The nickname was especially appropriate for him because frequently he would bring a bag lunch of hot dogs. He would take two hot dogs, slice them lengthwise, and put them between two slices of white bread. He would then microwave the sandwich and load it up with copious amounts of ketchup and mustard. When he would bite into the sandwich, the ketchup and mustard would drip all over the place. It was a sight to behold.

After graduation, I kept in touch with him briefly. We had a little reunion at my house a few years after college one day when Mike Gregory was back in town for a visit. But then I lost touch with him for many years. Finally, a few years ago, we reconnected on Facebook. With a common name like Frank Williams, I didn’t think I’d ever find him but I finally did

He is still playing in a band. Last summer, they were playing at a church festival on the south side and I went to hear him. It was the first I’d seen him in probably 30 years. He is not the lead in the band. He just plays keyboards but he does sing lead vocals on some songs. The guitar player is the lead.

Frank sounded fine. The lead singer sounded okay. But for some reason, I don’t think their voices mix very well. I think I liked his band better but this one isn’t half bad. Anyway, it was still great to hear him and to talk to him for a few minutes after the performance. It’s great to be in touch with him via Facebook after all these years.

Frank had a girlfriend named Kay who also attended IUPUI. They had been dating since high school. Somewhere along the way in college, they broke up even though everyone thought they would be together forever. I was also able to connect to Kay on Facebook recently.

As I alluded to last episode, the most important and long-lasting friendship from my college days is with my dear friend Rich Logan. I met Rich in the CS 300 Assembly Language Programming class I talked about last week. We hit it off as friends immediately and it has lasted almost 50 years.

By the way, speaking of that assembly language class, I finally found my little green card. You can see an image of it in the YouTube version.

There was a rec room across the hall from the lunch room. It had about a half-dozen pinball machines, a foosball table, and several pool tables along with other tables for playing chess or other board games. Rich and I played pinball but I could only work one of the buttons so I would get on the left side of the machine and work the left flipper. Rich would fire the pinball on the right side and work the right flipper. I was never any good at it but we had lots of fun.

In the summer of 1976, there was a sci-fi movie named “Logan’s Run”. Because Rich’s last name is Logan, a bunch of us decided we needed to go see the movie together with him. Rich recalls that he was the only one of the group who had not yet seen the movie but I don’t think I had seen it either. As best as either of us can recall, it must have been in late August or early September 1976.

The problem was, how to get me to the movie. I called my mom using a payphone (no cell phones in those days) and told her a bunch of us wanted to go to a movie one afternoon. I asked her if Rich could come by, pick up my van, bring it back to IUPUI, and drive me to the movie. He would then return the van to my house then get back in his car and leave. My mom quickly agreed.

Rich loves telling the story about the first time he ever met my mom. He couldn’t believe that he could walk up there being a total stranger and say, “I’m here to get your van,” and she just handed him the keys and let him drive it away. He said, “I thought what kind of crazy lady is this that would trust me with her car and trust me to drive her disabled son to the movies when she had never met me before?”

I explained to Rich, “It probably wasn’t easy for her. She was probably really worried. But she trusted me and I trusted you and that was good enough. It’s also a testament to how far my mom would go to attempt to give me a life that was as normal as possible. It’s normal for a guy to want to go see a movie with his college friends. If that’s what it took to make that possible, she was going to do it.”

The movie was about a guy named Logan in a future where people were not allowed to live past the age of 30. At birth, they had a small glowing crystal embedded in the palm of their hand. As they aged, it would change colors. When you turned 30, your crystal began blinking red. You then had to participate in some ritual ceremony called “Carousel” in which people would be exploded in a grand spectacle. But they were told that a small percentage would be “renewed”. People in the audience would shout “Renew, Renew” as the victims exploded. But it seemed like no one ever knew anyone who actually was renewed. People who realized that the “Carousel” was actually a death sentence, would refuse to participate in the ceremony. They became so-called “runners”. Logan was a type of police officer known as a “Sandman”. It was his job to chase down runners and terminate them.

Logan was sent on an undercover mission. They turned his crystal blinking red to make him a runner even though he was still only in his mid-20s. He was supposed to track down an underground movement that would lead runners to a legendary place called “Sanctuary”. When Logan inquired, “When my mission is over, do I get my years back?” The computer that gave him the assignment refused to answer. So now Logan really was a runner.

After watching the movie, our buddy Mark decided to start calling Rich by the nickname “Runner” and he went by that nickname for quite a time. I don’t think I used it very much if at all except perhaps when we were all in the group.

There was a woman and a group named Kathy Willaert. At first, it was hard to get to know her. Rich described her as “the quiet, shy girl who was always reading a book.” Many in the group never bothered to try to get to know her. Fortunately one day Kathy and I set down together and had a very long heart-to-heart talk where I did get to know her well. Once you got to know her, she was an amazing person. But few people bothered to take the time to really listen to her and to get to know her. They just sort of wrote her off which was quite unfair.

Had I written her off as unapproachable, I would have lost out on an amazing friendship.

As I previously explained, my approach towards women was that anyone who showed any kindness was immediately categorized as a potential girlfriend. And once I got to know Kathy, she could have fallen into that category very easily except for one thing. Even though I think she was about 19 years old at the time, she did not have a driver’s license. I’m sad to say, that was a dealbreaker for me. So although I was quite fond of her, I never really considered her a potential girlfriend.

One of the people who took the time to get to know Kathy and to truly appreciate her was Rich. I’m pretty sure that Kathy went with all of us to see “Logan’s Run” and somehow I had speculated years later that that was the beginning of their relationship – their first sort of unofficial first date. But according to them, their first real date was to see a rerelease of Disney’s “Fantasia.” According to Wikipedia, that rerelease was in April 1977 but I have no idea when they actually saw it.

When the gang learned that the two were dating, there was lots of gossiping about it. At one point, the gang witnessed Rich and Kathy disagreeing about something. After they left the room, someone said (well I’m embarrassed to say it might’ve been me that said it), they speculated that it wouldn’t last two weeks. Anyway, whoever said it first, me or somebody else, everyone agreed. Well, when that statement got back to them, they didn’t appreciate it. Over 45 years later they are still together and they still argue. When I reminded Rich of that recently, he said, “Yes we just stayed married to spite everyone. We are still waiting on our pool winnings.” Although we never did wager any money, if we had, Rich and Kathy would’ve taken the lot.

There was a bit of tension between the three of us. I grew jealous of the time they spent together. I think they thought I was jealous because Rich had stolen Kathy away from me or we were competing for her attention. But that wasn’t the case. As I explained before, Kathy’s inability to drive made her ineligible even though I really liked her. What really happened was Kathy got between me and my best buddy. I was jealous that she was stealing Rich away from me – not that Rich was keeping Kathy from me. But we worked it all out and we have been friends for decades now. There have been good times and bad times and we have shared them all together.

Sometime in March or April 1979, my disability got worse. I developed congestive heart failure and landed in the hospital for two weeks. Rich and Kathy visited me frequently and continue to visit me nearly every time I’m in the hospital. Rich also came to visit as I was recovering at home.

I remember one day we tried to hook up my Atari 2600 game system to my bedroom TV so I could play video games with him while I was in bed. We finally got it all hooked up and working and then I realized I couldn’t work the controller while in bed. My hands were too weak. So he played for a while and I watched. About 30 minutes later I realized I had fallen asleep. When I woke up, he was just quietly sitting by my bedside keeping me company.

When I was finally able to get out of bed briefly, he came by for a visit and we sat in my family room. He said he had a favor to ask. He wanted me to be the Best Man at his wedding to Kathy. I was honored of course. I explained I wasn’t sure I would be well enough in time for the wedding. At the time I could only be out of bed a couple of hours a day. He told me he had a plan B. Frank would be his backup best man.

My mom took me to the rehearsal the day before the wedding. It was in a Protestant church used by Rich’s family. Kathy, her sister who was maid of honor, and I were all nonpracticing Catholics in a Protestant wedding. Rich and Kathy’s parents, my mom, and perhaps some other family members were there for the rehearsal. There couldn’t have been more than 8 people in the church. Rich and I were at the altar. Kathy’s father led her up the aisle. The preacher said, “Wait a minute. Don’t you people know you’re supposed to stand up when the bride comes down the aisle? This is your rehearsal too. You need to rehearse your part as the audience.” So everybody stood up.

I turned to Rich and said, “That’s the way it is with these religious people. You never know if you’re supposed to stand up, sit down, kneel, cross yourself, or whatever.” We both cracked up. It was especially funny because that’s what Protestants often say when they come to a Catholic Church. Here we had three former Catholics in a Protestant wedding and I was feeding the same lines that the Protestants always say about Catholics.

My only official duty as the best man was to hand Rich the ring. We practiced many many times. He would hold out his hand palm up beneath my hand and I would drop the ring into his hand. I did not want to embarrass myself by dropping the ring.

On June 23, 1979, Rich Logan and Kathy Willaert were married and I was fortunate enough to be there as the best man. Frank was on standby. I successfully dropped the ring into Rich’s hand as we had practiced. Kathy’s sister handed her the ring and they dropped it. It rolled all over the floor. I’m not generally the kind of person who takes pleasure in someone else’s misfortune. But I was so happy that if a ring was going to get dropped, it wasn’t me who dropped it.

They had a small reception at Rich’s parents’ house and in his backyard. Frank got them a particularly nice wedding present. He knew they didn’t have a honeymoon planned so he rented a fancy suite in a downtown hotel. He ordered a steak and egg breakfast for them even though it wasn’t on the menu. Together we chipped in some cash so that they could have some spending money in addition to whatever other gift I got for them. I don’t recall what my wedding present was.

That day, I spent a total of five hours out of bed between the wedding and the reception afterward. It was the longest I had been out of bed in nearly 3 months.

As mentioned in other episodes, I went to see the original Star Wars with the Logans. We went back a year later to see it again. We saw all of the other Star Wars films except for “Rogue One”. We couldn’t go to that one because I was in the hospital getting my trach installed in 2016. A little over a year ago they released “Rogue One” in theaters and so we went back and saw it together even though we had all seen it on streaming or DVD. That completed the set. We’ve seen every Star Wars movie in the theater together – some of them more than once.

The three of us frequently went to the Indianapolis Motor Speedway on qualifying days and had a wonderful time there together. We saw many track records broken on several of those days.

Another fond memory… Rich and I went to a very memorable Colts game on Halloween night in 1988 against the Denver Broncos. It was carried on Monday Night Football. The Colts clobbered Denver 55-23. Our fans began taunting John Elway every time he made a mistake shouting “El-way, El-way” to mock him. Longtime Colts fans will tell you it was one of the greatest games we ever played and Rich and I were there to see it in person. It was a great event and a fond memory.

In those days, my family owned a cabin on a lake in Brown County. Rich and Kathy were frequent guests there. The YouTube version of this podcast shows some of the fun times we had at the lake. The video is from 1984.

We have seen countless movies and been to many sporting events – way more than I can remember. I have lots of other stories that I will save for appropriate times.

Rich is the brother I never had. Kathy is a very dear friend. I could not ask for more loyal caring and loving people in my life. They really are extraordinary.

It hasn’t always been smooth sailing. We’ve had our ups and downs. Our misunderstandings and disagreements. Even the production of this episode has been a challenge that we had to work through together.

When I used to teach Catholic inquiry classes at my church, there was a lesson about Old Testament prophets. While we normally think of a prophet as someone who predicts the future, a big part of the job is to be a spokesperson for God. Sort of like a Press Secretary. Typically a prophet’s message is to call you back to God when you go astray. Most of the prophets spoke to the entire chosen people but occasionally a prophet’s guidance is personal as in the case of the prophet Nathan who is best buddies with King David. Nathan didn’t hesitate to tell David what an ass he was being for having an affair with Bathsheba. I teach that sometimes we are called to be prophets to our friends or to have them be prophets to us and call us back when we go astray.

That’s the kind of relationship I have with the Logans. They love me enough to let me know when I screw up and they know that because I respect them and cherish our friendship I will listen to them and try to do better. There are lots of examples. One day I told a horrendously sexist joke in a computer class and later Rich called me out saying simply, “I thought your comments in class today were out of character.” I will never forget those exact words. The phrase “out of character” never had more meaning than it did that day. What he was saying with those three simple words is, “The Chris that I know and love isn’t the kind of person who would say such a thing. The Chris I know and love is better than that.” He was right. That may have been who I was in that moment but it’s not who I normally am and it’s not who I aspire to be. True friends see the best in us and motivate us to be the person they know we can be.

The occasions when the Logans have been a prophet who called me to be my better self far outnumber the occasions when I’ve returned the favor.

Scripture says “A faithful friend is a life-saving elixir…” Sirach 6:16. I’ve been blessed by many such friends.

I’ve been running with Logan for nearly 50 years and look forward to many more years of Logan’s Run and a blessed friendship.

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I will see you next week as we continue contemplating life. Until then, fly safe.