Friday, February 8, 2013

The Dirkmaat Constant



Having spent time here in Disney World, I have learned two absolutes:

1)It doesn’t matter when you come, there is no “down” season.  It’s always going to be packed

2) There will be lines for everything, but nothing will make you wait longer than the bus

The Poisson Distribution is an important tool to describe the discrete probability of events when the average occurrence rate is known.  In other words, if you know the average occurrence of an event over a period of time, Poisson posited that one could also know the probability of each number of occurrences of that event.

So, if we know that, on average, 2.5 people will try to board a bus every second here in Disney World, then the probability that zero people will try to board a bus in the next second would look like this:

e^(-2.5) × 2.5^0 / 0!

= 0.082 × 1 / 1 (2.5^0 = 1 and 0! = 1)

= 0.082

Alternatively, the probability that four people will board a bus:

e^(-2.5) × 2.5^4 / 4!

= 0.082 × 39.063 / 24

= 0.134

So, the Poisson Distribution is able to effectively predict the probability of someone boarding a bus in the next second at Disney World.  An equally important tool in understanding behavior here at Disney is the Dirkmaat Constant, which posits, for every person that boards a bus here in Disney World, the probability that it will take too long and Paul will mutter something sarcastic is constant at 1.0.

Wednesday, February 6, 2013

The One Where A Trip Was Taken



When I get to the gate, there is already a line of people waiting to board.  Well, not a line, really, but a semi-circle around the ropes as they wait patiently for their zone to be called.  If they were all sitting Indian style, they would look like a kindergarten class listening to a story. The gate agent drones loudly over the speaker, “Now boarding our premier members.”   I always board early.  Always.  When the gate attendant announces members with preferred access, I step up, put my shoulders back and hand her my ticket. I’ve never been turned away.   I’m sure my friends who think themselves psycho analysts[1] will claim that it has something to do with my inflated sense of self.  I think it’s because I want to make sure I can put my bag in the overhead compartment and not cram it under the seat in front of me.  It’s hard enough to wedge my 6 foot 4 inch frame into a window seat.  Trying to do that with a full duffel bag where my feet should go has proven impossible. 
I also always take the window seat.  As a growing young man, I was foolhardy and would opt for the aisle.  I soon discovered what everyone knows, that a lanky man who is all knees and elbows are the beverage carts' favorite prey.  Those carts are metal and unforgiving, and it feels like the stewardesses see my elbow hanging out into the aisle and take a running start at me.[2]  The window is safer, and less uncomfortable; depending, of course, entirely on who sits next to you.
I wait with trepidation and scan the passengers as they stand in the aisle waiting for a heavy set man to get settled 3 rows in front of me.  It could be anyone of them.  On any given flight, there are two, maybe 3 pretty girls.[3]  I always hope that one of them sits next to me.  Not because I think I will get a phone number or anything.[4]   I'm big enough already and having a petite, lithe beauty in the middle seat is always preferable to someone who spills into your seat. This is soon proven evident as an obese man with a bad cold sits in the middle seat next to me.  Throughout the flight, the “Brotunda” continually wipes his nose with his sleeve and then touches me with his sleeve.  At least he can tell I didn’t want to chat.  I can’t wait till I get there.



[1] Not to be confused with “psychoanalysts”.  One is a legitimate profession.  The other refers to my judgmental, crazy friends. 
[2] I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve sworn I’ve heard a hushed “Ramming speed!” whispered from the back of the plane.
[3] Flights where there are more pretty girls: Flights to LA from Phoenix, flights from LA to Phoenix and Hawaiian Tropics Charter flights.  As I found out this week, flights where there are fewer pretty girls: Baltimore to Atlanta.  Go figure. 
[4] The chances of that are especially remote given my penchant for falling asleep with mouth agape and my double chin protruding on full display