Around about 4th grade in the early 1980’s, I was walking home from school and saw the new kid in my class following the same path. We got talking and realized that he lived just around the corner from me. The proximity law that governs childhood friendships dictated that Andrew and I would become best friends.
Andrew and I had a lot in common. We were both smart (although too modest to tell people that, until today). We both loved reading trashy horror novels (Stephen King and Dean Koontz were our favourites). As a team, we rocked the junior high debating circuit in Alberta for a couple of years.
Andrew and I grew apart a bit in high school, and then he moved to Ontario. I saw him once in the early 1990’s when I drove across Canada. A year or two later, he showed up at my parents’ house one day when I just happened to be there. Five or six years ago, one of us managed to track down the other, despite Andrew’s aversion to Facebook. We correspond infrequently by email, and occasionally update each other about our families. Last weekend, I got an email from Andrew. He is not a math educator (I think he does government training), but he reads my blog. He sent me this:
That’s the thing about curiosity and perplexity in mathematics. You don’t need to be a math teacher to know a good 101qs when you see one. Everybody wonders about things that can be explored mathematically.
I wonder if Justin lost or gained followers when he got arrested.
I wonder if this growth is linear. I wonder if I could have a couple more data points.
I wonder when and if Kim will pass Justin.
I wonder why Andrew knows more about what I do than I know about what he does. I’m a terrible friend.