Calculator added up to fun for a math phobic kid in the 1970s | Mark J. Price

The Texas Instruments TI-30 calculator retailed for $24.95 in 1976 at O’Neil's department store in Akron.
The Texas Instruments TI-30 calculator retailed for $24.95 in 1976 at O’Neil's department store in Akron.

Look, I’ve never been good at math. I still get palpitations when I think about how my fifth grade teacher at Portage Path Elementary School made us do arithmetic on an overhead projector in front of the classroom.

New math, old math. It didn’t matter. I had about as much chance of solving equations as I did calculating pi to the 100th decimal place.

After scribbling the wrong numbers while everyone watched, I slinked back to my desk, feeling utterly defeated. I could almost hear the other students slapping their foreheads in unison at my incompetence.

A couple of years later, maybe 1977, my mother bought me a handheld calculator for Christmas, a truly bizarre gift for a child suffering from math phobia, but I appreciated the gesture. Maybe it could help.

Mark J. Price, Beacon Journal reporter.
Mark J. Price, Beacon Journal reporter.

The Texas Instruments TI-30 retailed for $24.95 (about $130 today) and operated on a 9-volt battery. It had a red, eight-digit display and offered such functions as percents, constants, roots, reciprocals, logarithms and radians. This was way beyond my comprehension. This was like giving a Corvette to a kid on a tricycle.

It simplified math, though: Addition, subtraction, multiplication and division were now at my fingertips. All those other buttons were just for show.

According to my estimation, I used that calculator 20% for homework and 90% for goofing off. Like I said, I’ve never been good at math.

I can’t remember which one of my classmates at Manchester Middle School told me about the secret codes. Apparently, if you input certain numbers and turned the calculator upside-down, it formed amusing words. Well, amusing to us anyway.

If you punched in 71077345 and flipped the device, it gave a rough approximation of “Shell Oil.” Meanwhile, 77380140 was “Ohio Bell.”

It was fun to try to peck out words. 53045 looked like “shoes.” 5508 resembled “boss.” 37818 was “Bible” and 7734 was “hell.”

This eventually led to the forbidden number 5318008. When you turned the calculator upside-down, it looked like “BOOBIES.”

That was a real knee-slapper in middle school. “BOOBIES.” “BOOBIES.”

Eventually, the novelty wore off, and I set aside my Texas Instruments TI-30.

Years later, when I dusted it off for a class at North High School, I discovered that I had done something stupid: I hadn’t removed the battery. Everything was corroded inside. I tried to clean the crusted acid, but it was too late.

My calculator no longer worked. No more “Shell Oil” or “Ohio Bell.” Or basic math.

I couldn’t bear to part with it, though. For years, it’s been stored in a box with other childhood memories.

How times have changed. Now people can use calculators on their smartphones when they need to do math.

And from what I’ve heard, they no longer have to punch in the forbidden number to see “BOOBIES.”

Songs for the eclipse

Akron ukulele players are strumming to the cosmos.

After reading our ultimate playlist of songs for the total solar eclipse April 8, Jodie Grasgreen submitted one that she made for the Highland Square/Rubber City Ukulele group.

A crescent sun shines behind the steeple of St. Bernard Catholic Church in downtown Akron during an annular eclipse May 10, 1994.
A crescent sun shines behind the steeple of St. Bernard Catholic Church in downtown Akron during an annular eclipse May 10, 1994.

The group, formed by the 2021 merger of Rubber City Ukes and Highland Square Ukulele, will play eclipse-themed songs at its April 2 practice.

Here’s the list: “Across the Universe,” “Bad Moon Rising,” “Blue Moon,” “Blue Skies,” “Bring Me Sunshine,” “By the Light of the Silvery Moon,” “Fly Me to the Moon,” “Good Day, Sunshine,” “Hanalei Moon,” “I'll Follow the Sun,” “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds,” “Moondance,” “Moonshadow,” “Sunrise, Sunset,” “Sundown,” “Total Eclipse of the Heart,” “Walking on Sunshine” and “Wishing on a Star.”

The group practices every Tuesday at 981 W. Market St. at Highland Square. Jodie said it takes about 15 minutes to learn how to play a ukulele.

Go to https://rubbercityukes.wixsite.com/rubbercityukes for more on the group.

“If someone wants to join us, they should contact us,” she said.

Honking it up in Akron

The sound was absolutely atrocious.

HONK HONK HONK HONK HONK!!!

It sounded like a busload of clowns crashing into a squeaky-toy factory. Or maybe a herd of elephants trampling a crate of bicycle horns.

HONK HONK HONK HONK HONK!!!

I rounded a corner in downtown Akron and discovered the source of the racket. An angry Canada goose, wings flapping and head bobbing, was trying to protect his mate from a persistent intruder.

HONK HONK HONK HONK HONK!!!

The gander went beak to beak with the interloper — or so he thought. The furious fowl was actually trying to intimidate his mirrored reflection in a window of the AES Building.

“You’re honking at yourself, silly goose,” I told the bird.

HONK HONK HONK HONK HONK!!!

He paid no attention to me, ignoring a potentially real threat as I walked toward his wary mate on the sidewalk.

“Are you sure you want to stay with this dude?” I asked her.

She gave me a little nod as if to say: “What can I do?”

HONK HONK HONK HONK HONK!!!

I hope their goslings take after her side of the family.

This and that

● This winter’s warmer temperatures must have taken a toll on the ice shanty trade in Hudson.

● I’m glad to see that Akron’s Spaghetti Warehouse fixed its neon sign. One night, it read “ghetti Wareho.”

● During a qigong class at Cuyahoga Falls Library, participants learned about acupressure points, energy meridians and self-massage techniques. Usually, self-massage is banned in libraries.

● The back of a Special K cereal box contains this deep thought: “Naturally Flavored with Other Natural Flavors.” You don’t say.

● Why did the gangster carry an umbrella? He was in the wetness protection program.

Mark J. Price can be reached at mprice@thebeaconjournal.com

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This article originally appeared on Akron Beacon Journal: Calculator was fun for a math phobic kid in the 1970s