All I can say is remember your natural logarithmic identities

Posted by E-George on June 25, 2007

This weekend’s homework kicked my generously-padded ass up and down the table. In a nutshell, I had to remember certain things I learned in Calculus II and III the hard way. Allow me to enumerate:

1. Remember your log identities. These are crucial, especially when you’re solving for a variable as part of an exponential. These have proven exceptionally beneficial:
   

   ln(xy) = ln(x) + ln(y)

   ln(e^x) = x
   

2. Remember the properties of integrating the number e:
   

   y(x) = ∫ e^x
   y(x) = e^x + C

   y(x) = ∫ xe^ax
   y(x) = (1/a²)(ax-1)e^ax + C

3. Never forget the simplifying potential of multiplying through the equation using the inverse of the largest exponential, and dividing through using the smallest coefficient.
4. These simple truths should save you the hair loss, frustration, anxiety, and self doubt that I suffered in spades yesterday. Even though I got the answer at the end of the day, I felt like I had thoroughly expended all available smartness brain squeezin’s.

Luckily, Noah needed someone to go with him to the Brad Paisley concert last night, so I got to tag along. It was a fabulous evening for people watching. A lot of women fetching the Bud Light, a lot of men waiting for the Bud Light, a lot of nacho and giant pretzel eating, a lot of diesel truck driving, and a lot of taco-shell-style cowboy hat wearing topping the impressively detailed coiffes of the cleavage-baring cow-style hoochie girls.

In general, cow music isn’t really my thing, but I’ve always appreciated Paisley’s gift with lyrics, even though it uses a lot of steel guitar and the steel guitar agitates me as if the Devil himself were licking his finger and sticking it in my ear. Once we slogged through the intro acts (which consisted of songs written and caterwauled by an insipid female post-high-school stick insect, and another set of songs slurred by a guy whose on stage drinking didn’t have an improving effect on his music) and got to Paisley, it was past 9:30pm. He played for 90 minutes, which seemed like such robbery, especially after I’ve been spoiled but such live-act luminaries as Weird Al Yankovic, who plays nonstop for nearly 2.5-3 hours per show.

Take a queue, Paisley. Ditch the hateful little girl who sings spitefully about ex-boyfriends and the drunk man who lauds infidelity and give the audience what it paid good money to see. E.G., YOU.

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