December 7th, 2018

Pi series.

I'm working on getting my C++ skills out of mothballs, and I wrote up this program to approximate the value of Pi/4 based on the series 1 - 1/3 + 1/5 ... etc.
https://github.com/asherabrams/PiSeries01

When I created the filename as a single word, it came out "piseries", and it occurred to me I had just coined a new word; it might describe a condition such as a bladder infection or a kidney stone.

Hope you have a great weekend, free of piseries and other uncomfortable ailments.

Retrospective: 12 years.

Twelve years ago, I was visiting my native Connecticut for my 25th high school reunion. A couple of chance encounters prompted me to write this entry:

https://asher63.livejournal.com/94022.html
'On the Sunday of the Thanksgiving weekend, I was sitting in the Victoria Street Cafe when a man about my age went up to the counter and ordered a coffee. He made conversation with the young woman behind the counter, and I overheard a few words. "Excuse me," I said, "did you say you were in town for your twenty-fifth high school reunion?"

"That's right."

I told him I was in Connecticut for the exact same reason. His school was one of the ones in the local area - northeastern Connecticut - and I went to school in the Manchester area. He introduced himself as Ben. We compared notes about high school. "You know," I said, "it was good to go to my reunion. I had a really hard time in high school, and some of the kids picked on me pretty bad. But I made it through okay, and it was good to see my old friends again. You know, people change - we all grow up."

He nodded agreement. "Did you have a similar experience in high school?" I asked.

He grinned sheepishly and shook his head. "No - I had a 1.37 grade point average. I was one of the assholes. ...'


The whole story, along with the reflections of another high-school outcast, can be found at the link.

And it was also in that same month, in fact over the Thanksgiving weekend, that I re-connected with Georgianne.

https://asher63.livejournal.com/90621.html

How the years pass.