The Curse

Mario Andretti

This last Memorial Day weekend I watched the Indianapolis 500 race. This has been my favorite car race since I was a kid. I try to watch it every year (although some years, something-usually family-interferes). 

In 1969 when I was 8years old I heard that Mario Andretti had won the Indy 500. I'm pretty sure I didn't watch it because, according to Wikipedia, it was only shown as highlights on ABC Wide World of Sports (the show that gave us the phrase "the agony of defeat"). I decided to go with a winner and decided that Mario Andretti was my favorite Indy 500 driver. Spoiler alert: Mario never won another Indy 500.

The race wasn't shown as its own program until 1971 according to Wikipedia and even then it was tape delayed to be shown in prime time and was edited to fit the time slot. They also would put in little featurettes about drivers or cars or whatever. It got worse every year. I just wanted to see the race.

In 1986, the Indy 500 was first shown live "flag to flag" (green to checkered) and it's been that way ever since which I liked a whole lot better than the edited, tape-delayed shows.

So, here I was rooting for Mario Andretti to win the Indianapolis 500 every year he raced. And he never won another Indy 500. His son, Michael, never won an Indy 500 (he's been more successful as a team owner), and his grandson Marco who is still driving has yet to win an Indy 500. This last race he crashed very early, I believe on the third lap!

But every year Mario raced, it seemed something would go wrong. Usually that meant someone would run into him or spin out in front of him or something would break on the car. It became known as the "Andretti Curse." There's even a Wikipedia page about it. My wife and I would sit down to watch the race and say "Who's going to spin out in front of Mario this year?"

Don't get me wrong, Mario was a great driver. He won Grand Prix and IndyCar championships. He retired in 1994. He even got to drive an Indy 500 with his son, Michael. 

But he seemed cursed and also seems to have passed the curse down to his progeny. 

These days I'm rooting for Pato O'Ward, a Mexican with an Irish name. But I still, in my heart, hope an Andretti can win at Indy.

Blog Post Views versus Age of Post

 I'm such a nerd.

I was looking at my blog post views and I noticed that the older the post, the more views it has. The views seem to accumulate as the post ages. So, being a nerd, I charted that in Excel. Here's the results for 20 weeks:

As you can see, it rises sharply then levels out eventually. I don't know why this happens. I don't promote the blog post after the first week, so I'm not sure where all these blog views are coming from. And I wonder if they are legitimate. Or if it's something like the Referrer Scam. (That referrer scam post has over a million views, but it is almost 12 years old.) 

I guess I won't worry about it. But it is strange.

The "Doctor Killer"

1978 Porsche 911 Turbo

Speaking of cars with turbos. 

There was one car in the 1970s that got a reputation as the "doctor killer" because doctors (who could afford them) would buy the car and then wreak them. 

It was 1974 and Porsche brought to market the 911 Turbo. 

The 911 was an old design even in 1974. The engine was in the back behind the rear wheels. It has an air-cooled flat (also called boxer) 6-cylinder engine with a turbocharger added. That gave it 261 horsepower which for 1974 was impressive (the Corvette had 210 hp). But it has a flaw. As Car and Driver put it:

[T]urbo lag as long as a coffee break. Mash the throttle at 3000 rpm, and the boost gauge plays dead until the tach reaches 4000. Then you enjoy a chiropractic neck adjustment until the wham peters out at 6000 rpm.

So why did it kill doctors? First of all, it cost $34,150 MSRP. That's $171,260 in today's dollars. So it wasn't exactly available to the average car driver. You needed the income of, say, a doctor.

The unskilled or unexperienced driver would go into a corner slow and upon exit mash the gas pedal. And here comes that turbo lag (the time it takes the turbo to spool up and start adding boost). Then, with the front wheels still steering through the corner (or pointing any direction other than straight), the engine would hit 4,000 rpm, the turbo boost would kick in causing the rear tires to break loose and, with the engine hanging out the back like a pendulum, make the car oversteer harshly. The driver would lose control and slide, often into a tree or rock or barrier or some other solid object. It's a small car, no airbags in those days (people didn't tend to wear seatbelts, either) and so it would kill its driver.

Now days, the Porsche 911 Turbo (which costs $200,000 plus), makes 572 horsepower (or, if you pay more, 640) has all wheel drive and electronic nannies to keep you on the road. It doesn't even have a manual transmission option.

But for a while there, the 911 Turbo had a bad reputation for killing its well-off drivers. 

 

The First U.S. Production Car with a Turbo

Google has started putting suggested stories below the search bar. I generally ignore them as click-bait, but one caught my eye. It was about the first American production car with a turbocharger. (For a short description of what a turbocharger is and how it works, scroll to the end of this.)

I thought maybe a Buick Grand National or the Ford Mustang SVO. Both of those cars were from the 1980s.

But no, it was a lot earlier than either of those vehicles. According to this article, it was an Oldsmobile made in 1962. Called the "Jetfire Turbo Rocket V8," it had a 215 cubic inch (3.5 liter) V8, which is small by today's standards. Unfortunately, it required a "Turbo Rocket Fluid," which was a mix of water and methanol, injected into the pistons to keep the gasoline from detonating early under turbo pressures. This can cause engine knocking which can damage your engine.

Despite all this, it only made 215 horsepower and 300 ft-pound of torque. Perhaps because the V8 was so small. These days, strapping a turbo onto a V8 should get you 400 horsepower, at least.

I'm wondering what the second production car to have a turbocharger was. A quick Google search indicates that it might be the Porsche 911 Turbo introduced in 1974, twelve years after the Jetfire.

Does this surprise you like it did me? I had no idea the first turbocharger was that long ago. Let me know in the comments below.

Does Everyone Need Algebra?

The jibe is that very few people ever use algebra in their lives. And I'm sure it's true. In Washington State, to graduate high school you need three math credits. And one of those credits is with Algebra I or something called "Integrated Math I." No idea what that is. And most college degrees require some algebra. 

According to the State of Washington, Integrated Math 1 is "a first-year high school math course, typically taken in 9th grade, which provides a foundation in linear equations, inequalities, functions, graphs, and systems of equations." So not algebra, but there is some usefulness there.

I'm seriously wondering if we need to teach algebra to most high school and college kids.

Believe me, I'm all for math. Everyone needs to know the basics.  You likely get all of that by 8th grade. The only reason to study algebra, in my opinion, is so that you can study calculus. And you study calculus because God speaks calculus. Algebra kind of simulates the world. Calculus comes a lot closer. (Differential equations comes even closer.) If you want to be an engineer or scientist, you're going to have to learn math.

I also wonder how many kids drop out of high school or college because of math requirements?

Maybe we should put kids in high school on two tracks: vocational and college bound. We desperately need more kids learning trades and not everyone needs to go to college. In the college-bound track, they learn algebra. In the trades track, they learn the math they need to succeed.

What do you think? Is algebra needed for most people? Let me know in the comments below.