Losing the power of twelve

Last week's column might have seemed a little strange, but here is the second and final part of it, and it might seem even more so.
The factory whistle at the Longwarry Butter Factory was blown only twice a day, if my memory serves. The first was at 12 o'clock, midday, noon. High Noon means the time the sun is highest in the sky, and is a term used by astronomers and film directors. That was a great movie, too.
The five o'clock whistle was not really based on the use of 12. It just meant it was knock-off time and who would want to complicate that? Aussies will accept knock-off time whenever and however.
To we folk who like things in 12s, the word "dozen" is very important. I'm sure you feel the same way. There is even a Dozenal Society in the USA.
The dozen is one of the most primitive customary units of numbers. The number system with the base number 12 is called duodecimal or dozenal. It is believed to have started from counting by finger bones, not using the thumb, though I am not at all sure this is true. If you leave off the thumbs, albeit metaphorically, you have eight fingers, each with three sections, hence 12 such sections on each hand.
Additionally, there is also a baker's dozen which is always 13. This comes from an old tradition where bakers would add an extra loaf of bread to an order of a dozen. They could be fined if the dozen rolls, or loaves, were even slightly underweight, so they added a 13th item to make sure the total weight was not in deficit.
This was also called a devil's dozen or a "long dozen", but there is an even longer dozen!
The "Texas dozen" generally consists of 15. This is typically used only in Texas and surrounding areas for such goods as flowers or baked goods, although it can be applied to anything that is counted, such as fruits and bad jokes.
We have people who use "gross" to describe something found less than tasteful, but it is a real word and it has real value. A gross of anything is 144 of whatever it is.
If you are buying a gross of eggs (hard to imagine), you'll pick up 12 cartons, each of 12 eggs. Here, now, is something few of us know. There is a measure called a Great Gross, which is 12 gross, or 12 times 12 times 12 of whatever you are counting,
The term is, or was, frequently used for counting objects being shipped in bulk. There is also a Great Hundred, which is really 120, which is 10 times 12.
The Friends of Twelve, an organisation I haven't started yet, will warn of the great deception one meets in using calculators. These diabolical little machines are very adaptable and you will probably find that they have colonised your phone and your computer. They allow you to multiply and divide and add and subtract in 12s, true, but they are basically base 10 machines, seeing 10 as the pivotal number. Don't trust them. They offer you only the 10 basic digits - there is no 11 or 12 button. That is the giveaway.
As an aside, you might well wonder why I am so attached to this magic number and why I want to protect it, tongue in cheek or not. It all goes back to the early 1950s. Let me explain.
At Longwarry State School there were four classrooms and, though we had come up against the multiplication tables before (we called them "times tables") in the grades three and four room, we were exposed to a whole new regime in the fourth room.
Hec Loir was the head teacher and took the grades five and six. This was a room in which high performance was expected, in everything from multiplying fractions to bringing in the firewood for the only heating we had, a fireplace which kept Hec warm because he stood in front of it. I think it was that example that led to my becoming a teacher so that I could stay warm in the winter.
The multiplication tables were printed on the backs of most of our exercise books but - and this is important - old Hec (who probably wasn't, but seemed so to us) had written the tables of the pull-down roller blinds in the classroom. We would chant them as he pulled them down and let them up again in a random pattern.
It was a strangely satisfying ritual, all of us doing it in unison. But when he stopped pulling them down and we had to recite them from memory, the mood would change to one of fear and trepidation. The tables also were printed on the backs of many of our exercise books, too.
I always had trouble with the seven times and nine times tables, but 70 years later I can still recite all the others easily - and they do still have relevance and usefulness. Which one was the "biggie"? The 12 times table was. What was the one I knew best? You're right.
That might have had something to do with money. Back then there were 12 pennies in a shilling. There were 24 pennies in a florin, a "two bob". There was a 10 bob note and then a quid, worth 20 shillings. As a little bloke I rarely got much beyond two bob, so counting those pennies mattered.
Back then, too, there were only 12 teams in the Victorian Football League and, though it might be hard to imagine, the AFL had not been invented. We knew there were teams in other states but they had little or no relevance.
Even the State of Origin matches didn't matter much because most of the players were in our AFL teams anyway. Yes, 12 teams. Saturday afternoons. In any weather, with no closed roofs.
They were the days and the number 12 links us back to that glorious time when football was a hard game for hard men and not a commercial entertainment (at least at AFL level).
One of the great wins for the supporters of 12, obvious but still worth a mention, is the calendar we use. We have 12 months, though the Romans started it with only 10. Their words are still there from August through December.
We won that one but perhaps I shouldn't mention it too much, lest we get 10 months with 10 days in each and very short years with hardly any time for the football season.
At least the chooks are sill laying their eggs in dozens.