Pies aren't square!

Jarom and Alixa are pretty big losers, which means that they often spend their free time (defined by Verizon as “nights and weekends”) hanging out with just themselves. This week they chose to try a new local restaurant, The Smoky Mountain Brewery. Alixa had heard some good things about their pizza, and she liked saying the name the way someone from England would (“I can’t wait to eat at the brury, Mr. Darcy”). After perusing the menu, Lix decided to get a veggie pizza and Jarom chose a burger. Since Lix was eating the pizza by herself she wanted to get the 12-inch size, but Jarom told her to get the 16-incher so that he could enjoy the leftovers later. After the waiter left, Jarom decided that it would be a good time for a "teaching moment", which should be a familiar scenario for any of you who have played games with Jarom.



As many of you know, Jarom is a strange duck. He likes to know the why behind everything, and often shares these thoughts with his wonderful wife. Alixa makes fun of him for this personality trait, but she can tell you why bridges ice before highways and why triangles are used in the construction of bridges and towers. Today’s lesson involved the price per square inch of pizza at the Smoky Mountain Brewery. Jarom asked Alixa how much pizza she got with the smaller size. He received a semi-blank stare, and the answer “Uh, 12 inches?” He then asked her if she knew how to figure out the area of a circle. She threw out a guess of 3.14 x π. It is tough to say which was greater at this moment – Jarom’s embarrassment that his wife could not perform such a rudimentary geometric calculation, or Alixa’s embarrassment that she had married such an incredible nerd. Since only one of those two things could be remedied, Jarom proceeded to explain to her that the small size provided 36π square inches of pizza (from the formula area=π x radius squared) for $15, or about $.14 per square inch, while the larger size was 64π inches squared for $18, or $.09 each. Regardless of the price, the pizza was great, and everyone learned something in the process.



Since this has been a slow news week for the Winns, I would like to take the opportunity to address a subject that has been drawing some attention during the past 5 months. That topic is the practicality and safety of keeping a meat-eating constrictor in the same abode as a helpless newborn. I first want to express my appreciation for the concern that has been shared with the Winns about this situation. I understand that you are simply looking out for the best interests of this family, and I respect your opinions. Secondly, I want to express my outrage and insult that any of you would want to give me the boot. However, back to the first point: there is nothing to worry about. The general population’s opinion about snakes has been formed over the years by the popular media, which almost never paints us in a positive light. This is true of literature, but is even worse with movies. Anaconda, Snakes on a Plane, and Boa vs. Python have all fed the general hysteria that you are likely to be eaten by my buddies or me. Recent incidents involving my huge cousins and the idiots who try to keep them as pets have not helped. But I want to assure all concerned parties that in recorded human history there have never been any ball python-caused fatalities. Comparing me to those other snakes is akin to getting rid of the family cat because of tiger maulings. Those who have met me can testify that I am a threat to nobody, and to those that have not; I invite you to meet me in order to assuage your fears.