On Enasni, when delivered a telegram, it is considered exceptionally rude not to tip the messenger. So, I placed both my hands firmly on his shoulders and gave a good push. He rocked backward, almost falling over, and I could tell by his wide smile that he was pleased.

News of my pending departure swept through the village where I was staying. The town elders informed me that a feast was to be held in my honor the following day.

Having spent the night packing, I arose the following morning to find the air permeated with the aroma of Cassowary roasting on open spits in preparation for the feast. At the designated hour, I arrived at the central plaza to find it filled with festive happy faces both familiar and new.

Here again was the little green man, still carrying his confusing charts. Professor Aleks, always the conversationalist (and a bit of a drinker), was insistent that I answer a burning question before I departed. As I did not know the answer he kept asking it in several different ways, and would not change the subject until I promised to answer an entirely different question; such is his way.

Just before we began the ceremonial licking of the frogs, I was handed a letter sent by the former members of my team who had vanished in the mists of Mount z. It seems they left Enasni with their new spouses and are all now living in a suburb approximately 22 miles outside of Denver in new homes with attached garages, 3 bedrooms, 2.5 baths, and swimming pools. To assist their Ensani loved ones adjust to life on Earth, they have turned the swimming pools into classical Enasni tickle pits, which is sure to increase the value of their homes.

So we ate, and tickled, and chased frogs long into the night, and as the bell in the clock tower in the plaza struck 2:47:06, I knew it was time for me to go. Goodbye Ensani and thanks for all the fish.

I stood up from my chair, spilling my chi tea, and made my way through the room that, by now, after weeks on the planet, was so strewn with my belongings that it looked like a scatter diagram where nothing had any correlation.

I opened the door to find a representative of the Enasni Intergalactic Telegraph Office (ITO). Enasni law prohibits direct communication between planets; consequently, the ITO does a thriving business.

I must say, however, that these telegraph communications are not without their challenges. First, Enasni law requires that the sender (in my case folks back on Earth) must translate the message into Enasni before transmitting. This poses a challenge because the Enasni language is difficult and because only 7 people on Earth speak it.

Once received on Enasni, the telegram is sent to the Enasni government sensors that look for and remove any words or phases considered offensive. Examples of offending text include, but are not limited to:

Corn (cob, not cream style)
Terrarium
Flute
Bette Midler
Any words containing more than four letters.

Once potentially offending words are removed the telegraph must be re-translated back into English by a designated representative of the ITO. On Enasni there are 4 English speakers, who, as best I can tell, spend most of their days fishing. I have attempted to determine if there is a correlation between the hours they spend fishing, the number of days they work, and the volume of telegraphs I receive. They are a very independent group, their productivity seems variable, and I, after all, am dependent upon them.

But I digress…

With the telegraph in my hand, I read:

URGE STOP MUST COME HOME BABY STOP WIFE STOP EAT NEED STOP MILK STOP

I ponder the meaning of this for a moment. Does it mean:

Urgent, my wife has had a baby, but the baby has stopped eating?

Or, does it mean my wife is eating babies and won’t stop.

Or, perhaps it means, “come home baby, I want to go out to dinner, and remember to stop and pick up some milk on the way?”

Whatever the meaning, it appears I need to prepare to leave Enasni.

After a night of drinking followed by dreams about multi-headed fish getting married to natives in the mists of mount Z (the groom was wearing a tuxedo with two tails), I awoke feeling less than splendid. I stepped outside into the bright morning light of the Enasni suns to retrieve the morning paper.

I sat down with the paper and my morning cup of Chi tea. The Enasnians are fond of Chi tea; they will drink cup after cup. Based upon tradition each cup must be placed in a different corner of the room and consumed one cup at a time, working one’s way in a counter clockwise direction. This gets a bit confusing because the clocks on Enasni keep time in different directions depending on what hemisphere one is in. In any case, this charming custom is referred to as Chi-squared.

According to the paper, one of the stars in a neighboring galaxy turned into a super NOVA. ANOVA, according to the paper, has so many attributes I couldn’t count the numbers. In any case, before I could finish the article, there was a knock at the door.

It has been quite a week on Enasni. Our landing team originally had five members, and we dispatched 3 to do survey work in the mountain region of Evol. We believe that while collecting data on homesteads in the region, they fell under the enchanting spell of the mists of mount Z, fell in love with members of the local tribe, and have undergone the ceremonial marriage ritual. Or, they have been eaten. Either way, we expect not to hear from them again.

Before we lost the team members we were developing a hypothesis regarding the Naem fish, a staple of the Enasni diet. First, we were comparing statistical samples of fish we collected from the famed Yrd River to historical data collected by the Enasni government. Testing our population mean and sample means, we determined that our sample seems to be representative, follows a normal curve and conforms to the central limit theorem. However, there seems to be some substantial changes in the fish population since the Enasni authorities last conducted any research. Namely, the Naem fish we are sampling today have two heads.

Our first hypothesis was “the fish have two heads or they do not.” This meant our significance test had two tails. Recalling that not every fish in our sample had two heads, (some had three) we considered a hypothesis that the number of fish caught each season with two or more heads would be less than or equal to 90%. This would give us many fish, many heads, but only one tail. So, depending on how we frame our research question we could have one headed fish with multiple tails or multiple headed fish with one tail. The choice was mind boggling and we became very confused. So, we decided to simply drink and bring an end to this tale. For now…

Week 2
Before departing for Enasni, as is standard protocol, I began reviewing the limited data available about the planet’s inhabitants. As described, the population was divided roughly evenly by gender. With a mean age of 53. However, upon my arrival, my own observations, corroborated by the local authorities, assured me that this was not the case. Indeed, a review of information prepared by the planet’s own central archives places the mean age at 46.

In pondering this contradiction, I first attempted to apply some comparative analysis. But found some elements of my ancient algebra skills lacking. So I turned to professor Aleks for advice. Once my arithmetic skills were refreshed, I began to compare the data used by our original survey team to that provided by the Enansi archives. What I learned was that our survey team used a small population sample for their calculations. In addition, the team selected subjects all residing in a region of the plant referred to historically by the name “land of the elder ones” (translated). In essence, the region long known for its longevity was not representative of the plant as a whole. In addition, the survey team used a small sample size, and erroneously assuming they had a normal distribution, applied Z in calculations instead of a t-distribution. I will report this correction when I return.

The last time our paths crossed I was exploring a planet the scientists call MBA 503 and the locals refer to as Ti Devivrus. It seems most fortuitous (at least to my good fortune) that both Dr. Aleks and I would be here, on Enasni at the same time.

Some see him as a teacher. Indeed he is. Others see him as inflexible and insistent on perfection. Indeed he is. To yet more, he is a shaman, who reveals great and powerful secrets with his teachings. He is all these things.

And, of all the planets, in all the galaxies in the universe, he had to walk into mine. Now, I ask you, what is the probability of that? Plus or minus 3%.

I landed on Enasni on Friday, instead of Tuesday as called for in our original flight plan. For several days, the team at mission control worked with me attempting a variety of technical corrections to get the ship back on course. In spite of these challenges, I managed to land. For the next day or so, I continued to experience communication problems between the ship and the home world. But the problems appear resolved....at least for the moment.

I left the ship and preceded to explore the landscape and make contact with the locals. Enasni is a landscape filled with many numbers. There are many signs directing its inhabitants here and there ( ~A, GM, P and many more). I confess I must refer to my English:Enasni dictionary to attempt to find my way around.

I met a small green man who seemed to be making a chart of some kind. It had too few markings on its horizontal and vertical axis for me to understand.

Before long I had spoken with several natives. They seem to me to be a people with many questions, challenges, theories, and hypothesis. Every where I turn they ask for my opinion, my help, in solving their dilemmas. They think, I suppose, that I know more than they do, coming from such a distant place and all. Little do they realize that it is I who have come to learn from them. Back to the ship. I must report in to Commander Larry at mission control

Welcome

And so it was to be. With this first blog I record for the ages my MBA journey. In truth, I suppose, it's half a journey, as I am half-way through with my program at the time of this writing. Perhaps, if time permits, I'll include some flashbacks. I mean, at least I owe it to the readers to record such events as the riveting story of how Ned became afraid of clowns, camel milker customer service, Bugsy Seigels MBA project, and other such memorable moments from my MBA trek.

As we begin, we find Tom having waded through the depths of tech hell in order just to go to class (a story best untold as it frightens small children) where he begins his strange and mystifying passage on a planet known by researchers only as MBA 510, but which its inhabitants call "Enasni" ...