A follow-up on Qualitative vs. Quantitative

As the last post on this topic was rather long and bombastic, I will make this one shorter and less troubling.

In thinking more about qualitative results and quantitative results, I remembered a story. This is the story. It is about the "dative paradigm."

Many moons ago, before The Beast got hitched and I traveled nigh unto a week to view it, I lived in a ward. I was younger then, but the sun still rose in the east and set in the west. 'Twas a simpler time. There was a decree in the land (meaning throughout The Hood) that each man was to go on a date each week for as long as we were incarcerated in the Hood. Well, if that was not a cat hair in the Kool Aid. Nevertheless, we all sought to realize the promised destiny of marriage by 22 years of age (This was their claim). All we had to do was go on a few dates a week.

Brother Pickle was excited. Now his daughter could marry the most handsome boy in the ward. (Sorry, I had to say that). Thankfully, I was only the second most handsome lad in the land and got out of that one. But I did go to great lengths (Okay, that is a major exaggeration) to hit the quota.

After just a few hours of thinking, I came up with some master plans (now picture a Grinch grin). Some of you may remember the "Loophole, Loophole" dance. It was like I had won a golden ticket AND Grandpa Joe won Who Wants to Be a Millionaire back when Regis still hosted.

I realized that the powers that be never said that I had to actually go on these dates with anyone. So yes, about a half of my quota was obtained by dates in the library sitting at a carrel doing Math 334 homework or something. (Cue the music for why I am still unmarried. That or I am single because I am addicted to video games, since I guess that all single men are addicted to video games. Or so they tell me. But I digress.)

Now some may say that doing homework in the library for a date is unholy before the elders of the town council and that this was not a date. But au contraire! The Three P's were satisfied as follows:
1. Planned. Yep. I planned on being in that carrel at that time.
2. Paid for. Did you think I stole my textbook? Of course it was paid for.
3. Paired off. Me and Boyce DiPrima (The textbook's author). No one else was even remotely going to approach us. (Cue Tommy James and the Shondells)

But then I realized I could mix up my methods. Physics 123 and Miss Lorde? (Paired off. I made sure that strange kid with the MacBook knew that I was on a date with this girl, not him, by raising my left eyebrow if he even dared look in our direction). Thrice was that class 50 minutes of glorious, quota reaching datingness with our lass Miss Lorde. If you count the 4 minutes that I sat next to her before class and the 1 minute after class that I sat and waited for the kid next to me to pack his iClicker, along with the 5 minutes I spent planning (there was no paying), it reached the minimum time stipulations of one hour! We spoke with each other upon occasion: "Did he say that the answer was C?" "Is that a rho or a upsilon?" (which look nothing alike of course).

Keep in mind that saying two sentences to this girl was actually pretty good for me. I have been on dates before where the only thing we said to each other was "Is that an eggplant?" (That was a long hour, but yes, the quota is also filled by speaking of purple fruits used in moussaka, a dish originating with the Ottomans).

I actually saw Miss Lorde not too long ago in the BYU alumni magazine. She looked quite good as it turns out, so I guess all's well that ends well. And glory hallelujah that she helped me reach quota when I needed to settle my tithing or get a temple recommend.