You're it

We have all witness the familiar, sad, nearly tragic event at some point in our lives. Someone recalls their last days of glory, which occurred decades ago, when they were in high school. It attains an importance in retrospect of those whose lives peaked during the salad days. I propose a metric to measure such tale telling, whereas

(X*(d/365))*t=p

Where is x the telling of an anecdote reflecting, like a cheap carnival mirror, well upon the teller, multiplied by each day it is told (score another day if it is told multiple times in the same day, oh lucky you for hearing it again) times how long ago it was (t) equaling the Pathetic score. Put less oddly, a measure of how little worth their current and future life is, without intent of claiming their old days had any value either. If you have criticisms of the above formula, I refer you to the many research papers documenting that

1. Atlantic Canada is one hour later than Eastern time
2. I watched Letterman all through the eighties, and it started at 1:30 AM
3. Math class was the only place I could catch up on much needed though little-understood-by-science REM sleep.

I had chance to try out my formula whilst taking the train home from work. One fellow was bragging about his not-so-evident-these-days footspeed. Was he bragging about a college track meet? No, farther back. High school sports? No. He was as proud as a parent of an idiot savant piano player’s parent on 60 minutes of his reputed prowess at tag. It would hardly be possible for someone to achieve a higher score, unless they reached farther back into the womb – but that’s a topic for another sort of blog.