First Recording Session

So today L and I had a little fun with a microphone. L did some singing while I prompted him with some whistles and clicks. I apologize, in advance, for the static in the middle of the file–you may want to turn your volume down a bit the first time you listen. For those of you still on dial-up, I’ve also posted a lower-quality version of the file. The recording is about 40 seconds long.

Singing in High Quality (1.6 M)

Singing in Low Quality (298 K)

Enjoy. Shoot me an email if you have trouble opening the file.

Fun for Geeks

Some of you may have been wondering what L’s dad has been up to over that last month. Well, he’s been busy trying to survive another semester of grad school, one that’s quickly turning out to be more demanding than any he’s experienced so far. One of the courses he is taking this semester is called ‘Math Logic I’. It is, to use a variation of a common expression, kicking his backside.

Much of the material covered in this course overlaps material that is traditionally taught in the Math Department and the Computer Science Department. So far we’ve been exploring, in very abstract terms, what might be the limits on what a machine could compute. The results of this inquiry have interesting philosophical implications. I’ll spare you the philosophy lecture. What I will do, however, is share a bit about the part of the course I have enjoyed so far.

So far, we’ve discussed two very primitive sorts of machines: Turing Machines and Abaci (‘abaci’ is the plural of ‘abacus’). These machines can be thought of as primitive calculators; they can be programmed to execute various computations on numerical inputs. A Turing Machine can be thought of in the following way.

Imagine that you have a really long tape, one that is divided into squares of equal size (not unlike a roll of toilet-paper) and stretched out on the ground. Now suppose you have a little box on wheels that can move up and down the length of the tape one square at a time. Inside the box is a really little man with a pencil, an eraser, and a book of instructions. The instructions in the book read like the following: move one square to the left; if the square is blank, write a stroke; then go to instruction x. The box can only move one square at a time. The man in the box can only manipulate what’s on the tape in one of two ways: he can write a stroke on a square and he can erase a stroke that is on a square.

Now imagine you are given the task of writing up the instruction book for the little man. Different sets of instructions will make the machine do different things. Suppose you give the man in the box the following instruction: move one square to the right; if the square is blank, write a stroke and repeat the instruction; if the square has a stroke, repeat the instruction. This sort of instruction would make the machine write an infinitely long block of strokes–barring break-downs and the end of the world–extending off into the distance to the right. Other instructions are more practical. Suppose you wanted to make a Turing Machine that would calculate addition for you. You would write up some intructions for the man such that, when you made two blocks of strokes on the tape beforehand, the machine would go to work on the two blocks of strokes and, when the machine stopped working, the single block of strokes remaining on the tape would be the sum of the two blocks of strokes you wrote on the tape at the outset. Suppose you wanted to add 2 and 3. Before you started the machine, the tape would look like ‘_,_,I,I,_,I,I,I,_,_’. If you wrote up your instructions properly, when the machine stopped the tape would look like ‘_,_,I,I,I,I,I,_,_’. You could write up separate instructions for every two numbers you wanted to add, but that would be extremely time consuming. You would probably just be better off doing the calculations yourself. But if you could write some instructions such that, no matter what two numbers you “wrote on the tape” beforehand, the machine would calculate their sum for you, you would have a time-saving device.

As part of my homework for this course I’ve had to write detailed, explicit instructions for Turing Machines. I’ve written instructions for various Turing Machines: one that doubles the number of strokes on the tape, one that adds two numbers together, one that subtracts two numbers, and others. An abacus is a slightly different machine, one that has Random Access Memory. Again, I won’t bore you with the details. If you’re interested, ask me about it sometime. Working on designing these sorts of machines has been fun. If only the rest of the material in the course was as much fun.

Still Cute

L is learning new tricks every day. Just over a week ago, he started vocalizing. (Technically he’s been vocalizing since he was born–crying is a sort of vocalization. But recently he’s learned that he can use his voice for other things too.) He can, as you see in the picture, hold his head up on his own. Of course, if his head moves too far over center, it still gets a little heavy for him. He can almost roll over by himself, and he loves to kick his legs furiously when they aren’t restricted by blankets and clothing. He is even growing in some fuzz to cover his bald head.

New Wheels

So we did some shopping today. We bought some new clothes for Pam, and we bought a stroller for L. It actually took us several shopping trips to decide on a stroller. Some fold up more compactly than others. Some are better built than others. Some come with a carseat. Some come with teeny tiny wheels that would be a nightmare on anything other than a sidewalk. Anyway, we eventually bought a stroller exactly like the one in the picture. The funds for the stroller came from generous family members. Thank you.

A Dose of Realism

It snowed last night, and today they decided to cancel classes. I’m not sure that there is enough snow to warrant it. But hey, we’re not dealing with hearty Manitobans here.

While trying to decide what to do with my day “off”, it occurred to me that I might insert a little dose of realism into our blog. By looking at the pictures of L that we’ve posted here, one might get the impression that L is always smiling and posing for cute pictures. But that would be a mistaken impression. L also spends a lot of time doing what he’s doing in the following pictures.

Is he cuter crying or smiling? (Yes, according to Webster, ‘cuter’ is a word.)

Departing From the Norm

I guess I probably owe some of my family members an apology. When I made my Christmas wish list, I said that I wanted some shirts. I even included some measurements on my list in the hope that it would make finding shirts easier for whoever wanted to buy some for me. Well, I didn’t get any shirts for Christmas. My shoppers reported that I was impossible to buy for and that, if I wanted shirts, I would have to go buy them myself.

I confess that my shoppers didn’t tell me anything I didn’t already know. I know that it is impossible to buy shirts that fit me. That’s why I included shirts on my wish list. I was hoping someone else would have more luck than I have had. The problem with buying shirts that fit me is that my arms are unusually long for my neck size. If you don’t believe me, try finding a shirt with a 16-16.5 inch neck with sleeves that are 36-37 inches long. It’s impossible—well, almost impossible. I managed to find a few yesterday! I had to walk through every store in the mall to find some, but I found some. (Finding clothes that fit would be so much easier if clothing retailers had more interest in clothing people than in turning a profit. It’s not profitable to make (and stock) shirts in my size; there aren’t enough people like me around to make it profitable to do so. It must be nice to be an average-sized person; every store has clothing in your size.) To my frustrated shoppers: if you want to see what your money bought, come to Massachusetts; I’ll model them for you.