Blue Dot

Use blue dots for sure shots!

These are not flashbulbs, merely incandescent A-lamps, but check out the sweet vintage ad!

So the “blue dot” thing was a quality indicator that Sylvania used in their classic flashbulbs. A magnesium filament inside an oxygen environment within the bulb produced a bright flash of light, assuming the envelope hadn’t been compromised. A dot of anhydrous cobalt (II) chloride inside that zero-moisture bulb would remain blue. If there was a leak, atmospheric moisture would react with the cobalt chloride to turn it pink, an indicator that this bulb might not work.

What’s less clear is how, exactly, one wee flashbulb is going to effectively illuminate that whale – flash photography being not super effective at distance – but whatever.

Apollo 13

News release announcing the upcoming Apollo 11 launch in 1970.
We all saw the movie, right?

Fifty-five years ago saw the launch of the Apollo 13 lunar mission, on 11 April 1970. It didn’t go to plan, of course. Things took a bad turn, could have been worse, but who can blame them for optimism in the weeks leading up to it all? Moon science is cool!

Check out that pure 1970 map illustration!

Maps, plans, a pretty tight itinerary. It’s expensive and difficult to go to the Moon, so you don’t waste time. But don’t those hand-drawn maps just make it so inviting? Presumably the astronauts carried maps which were much more detailed and useful, if less likely to get the kid inside all of us super-excited.

Apollo 14 would reach the Fra Mauro highlands in early 1971, though Lovell, Swigert, and Haise never flew into space again.

More Sodium

You’d think it would be more complicated inside.

Here, our more modern sodium light sources, using a clever design that enabled a reduction from the minimum 35W to as little as 18W in 1977. Cool, yeah?

Unfortunately, Philips finally bowed out of the low pressure sodium lamp game in 2019, mean we’ve got these dinosaurs running for as long as we can scour spare lamps online. Once the supply’s gone, it’s gone.

Pure sodium!

Hey, look! Sodium metal! Highly reactive, so it’s inside with a mixture of 99% neon and 1% argon, neither of which deigns to react with, well, anything. That’s why, when it starts up, we see a purplish glow from the noble gases before tube reaches 260°C and vaporizes the sodium. After that, it’s an intense monochromatic yellow-orange that’s hard to look at.

Low Pressure Sodium

Burnt-out low pressure sodium lamp
Toast.

Remember the old, aggressively-yellow street lighting that pre-dated LEDs, ceramic metal halide, and high pressure sodium? Turns out it’s very useful for physics, as the two strong emission lines near 589nm are handy for various experiments.

The lamps themselves are fairly tough, and the ballasts that operate them even more so. But, eventually, they burn out.

General Electric ceased production on these lamps back in 1972. So, no, sorry, replacements are not readily available.

Part 2

Second part of the Math 101 final exam, from November 16, 1948
“End of Test”

It’s part two of our Math 101 algebra final!

Someone really likes to underline for emphasis. They did not want the students to miss that the quadratic formula would be essential for solving 3x2 – 5x + 7 = 0.

Of course, nothing’s as charming as the wiggly, fancily-underlined “End of Test” text. Right?

Part 1

Ditto of Math 101 final exam, part 1, from November 15, 1948
Ditto!

Astronomy, here and elsewhere often under the Physics umbrella, was once part of the Mathematics department at Bucknell. Occasionally, we’ll stumble across some old files in the Observatory that have been yellowing gracefully for decades. Like this two-part final exam from Math 101. Algebra!

Of note for context: this old exam – November 15th, 1948 – waited patiently in a filing cabinet at the current Observatory, built in 1963. In all likelihood, it sat in a folder in the old Observatory for thirteen years, transferred to Tustin Gym for a time, and then quietly continued to be forgotten in a new building until some tech decided to clean the place up a bit.

Who doesn’t love finding curiosities in purple ditto ink?

Stamped

Lead brick, painted yellow, stamped by Nuclear Associates of Carle Place, NY.
It’s big, heavy, and boldly colored.

Lead bricks are useful things. This one – still bearing the stamp of Nuclear Associates, of Carle Place, NY – has had its fair share of scuffs and dents. (Lead’s soft stuff, you know.) These days it functions as a handy doorstop and a hands-on tool for explaining the density of matter.

Denser than water, than aluminum, than a nickel-iron meteorite. (All easy samples to acquire for demonstration.) Less dense than osmium; about half as much. (Not on hand, unfortunately.) Definitely less dense than the core of our Sun, by an order of magnitude-plus.

Also no handy samples of stellar core plasma on hand.

Do Not Touch

Orange warning label reads "CAUTION Touching or handling delicate optical components will destroy them"
If they could have added a klaxon, they would have.

There are times when you want your warnings to be relatively subtle. Visible, readily noted by anyone paying attention. And then there are the ones demanding you take notice.

Do you know what’s in here? (Not specifically.) Do you think you should open and check. (Not particularly.) Are you curious? (Yes, very much so.)

When there’s an obnoxiously bright orange label warning that fingers will destroy the contents, it’s easy to recall that there are loads of other toys around here which are a wee bit less delicate.

Yo-yos also come in bright orange.