Yesterday, sitting at the kitchen table enjoying the last few bytes of a BLT on wheat I was having for lunch, I watched my wife remove another pan of cookies from the oven.

“Is that a new oven mitt?” I asked.
“The old one died”, she replied.

You may think of her reply as odd. I, however, am no longer surprised by her casual anthropomorphizing. Everything we own “lives” with us, and has its own distinct personality and lifespan.

“I understand”, I said with only the slightest hint of mockery. I began to think of all the things I’ve “lost” since our marriage began. Then, as is usually the case, the engineer in me pushed to the rescue. (I do, after all, have an excellent analytic mind.)

“With use the pads become compressed. The resulting increase in density raises the thermal conductivity. The pad becomes less efficient at slowing heat transfer. Did you notice the old mitt burning your hand?”

She turned to me, hot cookie tray in mitt protected hand. Her expression was of unveiled sympathy. Her eyes were doing the talking. They told me I didn’t have a clue.

“No, Dear”, she said, “It was just getting on in years.”

…Of course it was. She didn’t throw it away, she put it to rest.

If you, too, have an excellent analytic mind, and want to know more about how density relates to thermal conductivity, I recommend our paper on Thermal Diffusivity.

I’m going to have a cookie. I’ll need it. She’s gone to sweep the living room, and the sweeper hates her.

Greg Gorby, Editor
RefractoryBlog.com
Refractory Specialties, Inc.

My wife and I were watching the Super Bowl when Janet Jackson revealed her shield. A few moments of silence passed before anything was said.

“Did you see that?” she asked.
“Just a problem with their statistical analysis”, I said.

Now I knew this was a mistake as soon as the words left my mouth. You see, I wasn’t really watching TV with her. I was thinking heavily about a situation at work. But I didn’t want to let her know that a dumb answer had just popped out of my mouth. She wouldn’t let this lie. I would have some explaining to do. I needed a cover story, and fast.

“Statistical analysis?” she harrumphed. “What in the world does statistical analysis have to do with a half naked girl in front of the whole world?”

I had nothing. I could only let fly and see where it went.

“Well, that part of her outfit is probably held in place with a metal connector, like a clasp.”

Yes, that was good.

“The manufacturer of the clasp has made a contract with its customers to maintain a certain level of quality.”

It was coming together now.

“There is range for strength, with an upper and lower specification limit that they have to stay within in order to honor their contract.”

I could feel the rush of success.

“The tool the manufacturer uses to make sure the clasp stays in that range is statistical analysis!”

I was deafened by my own applause. I was the maestro, a man of rare talent, indeed.

She sat back in her lazy-boy. She would never know what a dumb answer I had given her. Then she muttered her response in a voice almost too quiet to hear.

“Well, her dressmaker knows doodly-squat about statistical analysis.”

For a quick look at the mechanics of using Excel for your analysis, I suggest you read our report, Quick Guide to Statistical Process Control with Excel.

Greg Gorby, Editor
RefractoryBlog.com
Refractory Specialties, Inc.