Discoveries in the Physics & Astronomy shop | Science, curiosities, and surprises
This raises a major question: do astronauts typically wear shoes? Or do they float about in socks? Or those pajamas with the feet? We understand that every gram counts when launching things into space, so what sort of footwear makes the cut?
The Converse look is a fine one, of course. And do we spy both laces and zip-up sides?
Some days, you just get lucky.
There’s a total solar eclipse coming across North America shortly. Weather permitting, make sure you take a little time to appreciate it!
With a little luck, we’ll be watching that little circle disappear, bit by bit, awaiting a little magic.
Here they are, the orbiting frogs. Not being a frog, it’s hard to comment with confidence on how they feel, but one can assume they’d all rather be elsewhere, doing ordinary frog things.
We’re all relieved to hear that. While the American bullfrog enjoys a large natural range throughout eastern North America, and are celebrated jumpers, they are not typically encountered at heights above the earth that one would consider “in orbit.”
Whatever it’s like to think like a frog, we can safely assume that the rocket launch and orbital microgravity experiences were weird by any frog standards.
This particular wind speed indicator hasn’t been functional in ages, but at some point it was probably useful in determining whether or not to go outside for telescope observations. Wind is of concern in astronomy, as it can produce poor seeing and – when really strong – cause telescopes to shake. But wind chill is the more immediate concern. Cold nights can be good for observing, with clear skies and good seeing, but rough on fingers and toes.
All of that standing still, lack of warming sunshine, etc. doesn’t do a lot to counter a cold night. Maybe think ahead and bring along a hot beverage?
An awful lot of that chart is devoted to conditions when no one should be outside at all. One line of thought considers that a chart with all of your category indicators bunched up on the left isn’t the ideal for communicating information visually. Another notes that an endless tundra of negative numbers tells you enough without needing the particulars.
Science: if we can learn something from sending a 1,200 lb. payload over Saskatchewan via (a very large) balloon, by golly we’re going to try.
For very important safety reasons, you should never point a telescope at the sun. Without proper safety filters and the utmost care, that is.
There’s a solar eclipse in a month, and we’re definitely pointing this particular telescope at the sun. With the proper filters and the utmost care, of course.
We’re not arguing here: contingency plans in a potentially dangerous situation are essential. One can reasonably assume that any and all tasks undertaken by astronauts while naut-ing in the astro are, if not inherently dangerous, at least dangerous-adjacent. And, as that time Tom Hanks almost died in space taught us, you can’t call 911 from space and expect them to do anything about it.
In case you were curious: the first 911 call was in Haleyville, Alabama in February, 1968. The Apollo 13 mission went sideways in April, 1970. Presumably any connection between the two would have to have been routed through CAPCOM anyway.
Much of our day revolves around the Physics and Astronomy labs in Olin Science Building, which was the finest construction the budget could shoulder in 1954.
Which, after 7 decades, some renovations, and who knows what else, means there are a few minor holes here and there.
Holes which act like a pinhole camera in an otherwise dark lab, casting images of the sun and tree branches on the floor.