The Metric System and Me
When I was in elementary school we studied the metric system in math class. Oh, the joys of the decimal system, so simple and practical, compared to ounces, pounds, feet and inches. The whole Imperial system of measure seems like a case study in survival in the workplace. By choosing obscure and ridiculous measures that only they could understand, the bean counters of old maintained the comfort of job security, while the rest of us wallowed in the confusion that we assumed that we deserved. I still, to this day, have to consult reference material when I have to apply ounces to practical use. Why? Just so some poor bastard could keep his job a few centuries back. Joy. My elementary school teacher told me that the metric system would be slowly injected into the American culture until it eventually pushed the imperial system out completely. I was told this would take about 10 years. That was in the 70’s. Anyway, so I was pleased when I came to Japan and found myself surrounded by the practical metric system. It has taken me quite a while to internalize it, as I am fairly stubborn and for some strange reason hold on to the old imperial system with a death grip. (I actually enjoyed working out the formula to convert centigrade to Fahrenheit one day, to put off my mastery of temperatures to another day. And I actually find myself doing the math in my head before deciding if I am cold or not! I am that attached to the “American” way.) Well, my honeymoon with the metric system is over, as of this morning. For the last few years, whenever I stepped on a scale I enjoyed seeing my weight in kilograms. It made me feel so fit, seeing a nice small number staring back at me (1 kilo = 2.2 lbs.). Well, the internalization of kilos hit me this morning, no need to do math, to avoid the results if they scared me, or to think hard to understand what I was being told. I understood, and it ruined my day. No going back. I can no longer avoid the reality of the chubby middle-aged married guy syndrome. Well, maybe not chubby, but not exactly svelte. My wife suggested that I go to the swimming pool with her and the kids this summer. I suggested that before I decide to swim for exercise, I need some exercise. Somehow going out in public sporting a Speedo seems likely to compound any weight induced esteem issues. For now I guess I will see if I can work up a solid sweat by building a load absorbing platform for the scale, to once again push the meaning of the numbers into obscurity..