Andrew Kay: The Magic Number

Shockingly bad at maths, I now find I have an obsession with numbers

I’m lousy at maths and I know why. No-one ever told me what maths was for. Oh I admit that in later life I did realise that it had its uses, but as a child I saw no purpose in it and took absolutely no pleasure in it – whatsoever!
Let me clarify, I could do money, money was a practical part of life and back then you needed to do money if you were going to make the most of that meagre weekly allowance of a half crown. And at that point I leave so many readers behind. “What’s a half crown?” Well a half crown was two shillings and sixpence or 30d. I hear the crashing of more souls by the wayside of time. “What do you mean d?” Well d stood for penny and no, I have no idea why. A half crown then seemed like a fortune, but then I could by four Blackjacks for 1d and that was enough to turn your tongue and your teeth coal black. On that basis your 30d went a long way. A mere 3d would buy you a quarter of sweets, not a quarter of a sweet but a quarter pound or four ounces (that’s 113.398 grams and I did that calculation online, I’m not that daft).
Decimalisation happened on the 15th of February 1971 just three days after I turned 15. At that point I had spent the previous eleven years learning to count in pounds shillings and pence, weigh in ounces and pounds (a different kind, not £ but lb) and tons and so on, and measure in inches, feet, yards, miles… that’s not to mention bushels, chains, acres, hectares and pecks, gills, quarts, gallons… oh sorry, I did.

Overnight everything was measured in tens, and much as I could see that it was a simpler system, there was a resentment that I was not alone in feeling. All those wasted years, tiresome lessons and of course my blind spot about what it was all for.
Above all I was baffled by algebra. We had the most lovely teacher, a Mr Chaudhri, who we all liked and respected, but nothing he said made any sense. All I wanted to know was what is this for – and sadly he failed to convey that most vital bit of information. A+B might well have = Y but why indeed?
Years later, at art school, I found out why and was able to put it into practice, albeit in a very rudimentary way.
Sums, you can keep ‘em. I can do money and measuring and I can count so what more do I need?
The other day I found myself walking home with two new pairs of shoes. I love shoes but was very aware that it seemed odd to have bought two pairs suitable for winter wear on a steamy summer’s day. I decided as I walked that I should throw away two pairs of old shoes when I got home to make space but also because I perhaps have too many.
On my return I found that I have 15 pairs of shoes, plus my bedroom slippers which as they never go out I have decided not to count.
Fifteen including the two new pairs and excluding the two worn out pairs that went in the bin, yes they were too far gone to give to charity.
Having counted the shoes I got a bit OCD and decided to count the shirts. There were 48 on hangers and a selection more in the laundry – and that is without the T shirts! When it came to socks I gave up at 52 pairs and I cannot tell you how many single socks there are in the sock orphanage right now. Why I keep them I do not know but I guess I live in hope that the other ones will return and I will have cause to kill the fatted calf-skin loafer.

Suits six, pairs of trousers (not as a part of a suit) thirteen, shorts five, jeans (as opposed to trousers) five. I will spare you the underwear count but let’s just say that it’s excessive. Then there are the jumpers, jackets, scarves and my huge collection of silk ties and bow ties which are arranged by colour in a rather fetching manner.
Dizzy from my counting I stopped and put the kettle on for a cup of tea, not as simple as it had been as my new kettle now asks what temperature I would like it to achieve. The new toaster does the same! Numbers everywhere. I sat with my tea, thought about all those clothes and hoped that they had not become the sum of my life.