Physics was the bane of my educational existence in college. Thinking I had a decent understanding of physics, I took a semester at City College in Santa Barbara with the expectation that it would be the easier classes I took that term. It was there I was introduced to the "slug", one of the units of the gravitational foot-pound-second system (FPS). For the uninitiated, the slug is a mass that accelerates by 1 ft/s2 when a force of one pound-force (lbf) is exerted on it, therefore a slug has a mass of 32.17405 pound-mass.
Yeah, they lost me around that point too.
Never had I missed the metric system so much as that semester. Atmospheres, Newtons and Pascals were replaced by pounds per square inch, poundals and poundals per square inch. I spent lots of time converting pounds to stones, inches to chains and other archaic forms of measurement for length and mass. Fortunately time is time, so a second was still a second. I passed the class but it wasn't pretty. I was able to manipulate a three dimensional organic chemistry model but sound waves made no sense to me.
Scarred by that experience, I started and subsequently dropped the last few credits I needed in Physics twice before I completed the class. I didn't leave much room or error, as it was my last quarter at UC Davis and it was all that stood between me and graduation. I hunkered down, went to tutorials and kept pushing. It was not looking good as I headed into the final, but it was either try or go home without a degree. I completed the exam and spent the next two days wondering.
Unlike many instructors, this one did not post grades in the hallway or on their office window, but rather held office hours so he could tell you the results and answer any questions you may have had. I reluctantly made my way to his office, expecting the worst while hoping for a small miracle. As I approached the office I heard the instructor and a student I recognized from class locked in a heated discussion over points on the final exam that made the difference between a class grade of a B+ versus and A-.
The other student eventually left and I waited several seconds before moving into view. The instructor waved me in and looked for by results after I gave him my name. A look of resignation crossed his face, steeling himself as if expecting another argument. He explained he had reviewed the exam numerous time looking for additional points to bring up my results, but my class grade was going to be a D+.
I was expecting worse and was, frankly, thrilled to have passed the class. I took his hand in mine, shook it and thanked him. He had a perplexed look on his face for a moment, and then smiled. He understood, as did I, that passing was good enough for that day.
It was years after that fateful physics class that some of it finally made sense. I was driving a car with the radio on (reasonably loud, I am sure) when I rolled down a window. The sound changed. Opening the other window changed it again. I couldn't remember that frequency = speed / wavelength, but at that time I understood the pitch changes when you add or subtract ends on a box with sound waves in it.
I have tried reading physics books for the layperson over the years. "A Brief History of Time" by Stephen Hawking and "The Elegant Universe" by Brian Greene both graced my nightstand at different points. Despite these authors having a reputation for explaining modern physics in a way that speaks to the non-scientist, I still don't often get it.
And it's okay that I don't, for people like Rhett Allain exist to explain it to me. Still, his final decision on if bird poop could break a car windshield is less than satisfying: "I am leaning towards possible". Perhaps if I drive around listening to loud music and play with the window controls the answer may come to me.
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