Math was not my favorite subject.

Yes, I can add, subtract, multiply, divide, and figure out that repackaging butter pecan ice cream in a 56 ounce carton and selling it for a about the same price as a full gallon is really not that great of a deal.

I can also figure out that the super economy, industrial sized, double pack of toothbrushes from Sam’s Club may cost less per brush, but it still turns out to be a heck of a lot more money to spend if you only need one toothbrush – kinda’ like chopping down an entire forest, just to get one toothpick.

However, if you ask me to use the quadratic equation for any reason, well then, those are just fightin’ words.

Don’t get me wrong — I have nothing against math. I just don’t know when I would ever really need to use it.

Mathematical knowledge is no match against the really important subjects, such as politics and lumberjacking.

It has been documented that 50 percent of all mathematicians are in the bottom half of their peer groups. What is the point of being able to calculate ratios, proportions and compound interest when all people really care about is fuel economy and when their car payment is finally going to be paid off?

When it comes to math, the biggest mystery to me is why gas prices are set at 9/10 of a gallon? Why is regular gas at the Shell station priced at $2.20.9? Why isn’t it just $2.21? What difference does that single little 10th of a cent per gallon add up to when they’re selling a gazillion gallons of gas every day?

Recently, I went off on a weekend adventure with three of my closest friends. Three of us were driving southbound from the Center of the Universe and the fourth was driving north from some balmy Georgian hideaway.

Our destination was equidistant from both departure points, requiring both cars to travel approximately seven hours (this is already starting to sound like a “story problem” from fifth grade). Since there were three of us in the southbound car, I suggested that we divide the trip into equal driving times of two and a third hours.

One of my compatriots challenged my math and said (and I am not exaggerating, here), “No, we’ll each be driving two hours and 20 minutes.” I have to question the intelligence in admitting that I waded into a seven and a half minute argument over whose math was more correct — finally agreeing on each of us driving a mere 140 minutes.

I realize that there might be a mathematician or two that would consider statistical terms such as precision, accuracy, significant figures and other kinds of mumbo-jumbo and determine that, even though our math results were essentially the same, one of us was more right than the other. To be honest, I am okay with that, as long as my math is the math that was more right.

Larry Wilson is a mostly lifelong resident of Niles. His optimistic “glass full to overflowing” view of life shapes his writing. His essays stem from experiences, compilations and recollections from friends and family. Wilson touts himself as “a dubiously licensed teller of tall tales, sworn to uphold the precept of ‘It’s my story; that’s the way I’m telling it.’” He can be reached at wflw@hotmail.com.