Progress bar (1)
The progress bar is a great invention in computerland.  It performs the mighty feat of telling how much of a task is completed in terms of a percentage.  This is great because if a task is 35% complete and it's been working for a minute, you know that you have a while longer to wait, so you can go do something else while your dumb-dumb slow computer completes a simple little task. 

To the creator of the progress bar, I ask these questions: 

1.  What's the point of a progress bar making it all the way to the end and then starting over from the beginning?  It's like it's saying, "Hey I'm done.  Oh wait, just kidding.  Ok I'm done again.  Nope, not really.  I'm really done now.  Or am I?" 

2.  Why does stuff keep happening even after the progress bar is filled up?  This seems to be a bit illogical.  Shouldn't it only say it's 100% complete when it's actually complete?  Towards the end of the process, shouldn't it say it's 99% complete until it's actually complete? 

I guess some questions just can't be answered. #technology

The record (3)
When I was a 3rd-grade student at McKeown Elementary School, they used to teach us multiplication and division the right way:  Memorization of tables.  I don't remember exactly how they taught it (like was it the same thing every day or did we count M&Ms some days?), but I remember learning a certain number at a time.  For example, we'd focus on the number 7 by listing the product of 7 and every number up to 10.  7x1=7, 7x2=14, 7x3=21 ... 7x10=70.  Then we'd go to the next number and do the same thing.  I think we did every number from 1 to 10; 11 and up get complicated. 

The part that I disagreed with was the testing method.  They used this thing called "the record", which was literally a vinyl record with a person saying, "5 times 6 ...  3 times 8 ...  7 times 2 ..." while the students feverishly filled in the answers on their sheet.  There were several variations of the record:  One variation focused on certain numbers, depending on how many multiplication tables you had learned.  The other variation was in the speed at which the person spoke.  Some records used a 5 second pause.  Others used a 3 second pause.  Still others used an even shorter pause.  Obviously, the shorter the pause, the harder the test. 

The reason I disagree with the record as a testing method is because of the trauma is caused in the lives of the students.  The record was continuous:  Once it started, it didn't stop until the end.  If you missed one, you had to forget about it and move on.  Sure that sounds easy for a "grown-up" like me, but it's not the same with 8-year-olds.  There's this weird thing that happens when people feel overwhelmed.  It's called a "meltdown".  There was a meltdown during every one of these tests.  Halfway through the test, a kid would burst into tears because they lost their place or couldn't keep up.  But the teacher never stopped the record.  Like I said, once it started, it didn't stop until the end.  So some poor kid would sit there sobbing because there was no way to figure out what number the record was on.  It didn't say, "Number 3:  5 times 6 ... Number 4:  3 times 8 ..."  And since it was just multiplication or division, there was no partial credit.  There was no "almost" or "close".  It was right or wrong.  There's nothing like telling a kid they failed because they're too slow at multiplication.  Ah, the joy of being a teacher. 

The record needs to be experienced to be fully understood.  My explanation of it can't possibly do it justice.  Talk to any McKeown School student from the 80s-90s, and they'll know what I'm talking about.  With utter fear in their voice, they'll say, "Oh yes ... I remember the record ..." #math