Discoveries in the Physics & Astronomy shop | Science, curiosities, and surprises
Not presented entirely without comment, as it’s hard to contain the urge toward snark. Yes, we know what this is and why it’s useful; yes, we know what they mean by “gender” and how F/F looks the same but changes things. Yes, yes.
At any rate: the cables which once needed this adapter are gone, as is the equipment it carried electronic messages to and from. Now we just have a block of metal and plastic and the opportunity to squint and say, “I’m not sure that’s how that’s supposed to work.”
No one expects an antique box of chocolate bars – a Boston-based brand which went out of business in 1981 – to contain those candies anymore. We reuse boxes all the time, and the key factors are size and durability. D-cell battery boxes are in relatively high demand, for example; good size and sturdy. Chocolates boxes, it seems, were once just right for storing lots of glass plates. This was so long ago, though, that the original use has become somewhat obscure. (The glass plates. No one’s confused about the eventual fate of the chocolate bars.) Now the boxes are more intriguing than their contents.
Idle thoughts bubble:
At some point, this little adapter for converting a single electric wall receptacle into three seemed like a clever and useful idea. And, let’s note: despite the fact that it screams “Peanuts Xmas tree fire hazard,” it is, in fact, still in good or at least unmelted shape. Not that anyone’s plugging it in to test.
One of the many entertaining quirks of an academic setting is the need to organize certain things to conceal their specific nature. When running student labs, it’s not uncommon to give them something to measure using the theory and techniques they’ve recently learned. The instructor knows the approximate Ohm value of the resistor, but the students need to construct a Wheatstone bridge and measure it, because we’ve cleverly concealed the color markings with tape, or permanent marker, or shrink-wrap tubing. Whatever it takes.
Then it goes into a little bin with an entertaining label like MYSTERY RESISTORS! and we get a bit of minor entertainment every time we walk by.
MYSTERY!
Presented without comment, with the acknowledgment that presenting this at all is a sort of comment.
In the process of clearing space, you come across all manner of ancient and fascinating things. Desktop computers. Inkjet printers. CRT televisions. Slide projectors. Old motors and control gear to approximate sidereal motion.
Well, okay, reverse sidereal motion. The reason telescope mounts cost more than telescopes, because keeping stars and deep sky objects fixed in the field of view is no small task.
We’ll pop some of these open, gut ’em for any good parts, and move the remainder on to e-recycling. It’s the cycle of e-life!
In acoustics, there’s a phenomenon known as beats, which is when two similar tones generate an interference pattern that sounds like a pulsing beat. It happens with waves of all kinds, waves being moving energy and all that, but sometimes it’s easier to really get the sensation when you hear it. Graphing out the sinusoids and showing the constructive and destructive interference helps explain it. Hearing that wubwubwubwubwub cements it.
We have what looks, at first glance, like a glockenspiel, with its metal bars all in a row. Tap one with the mallet, and it sounds almost the same as the one next to it. Almost. Tap two at once, and you get the beats.
At one end, it’s 440 Hz. Then 439, 438, 437, 436, and 435 Hz. Not only can you hear the beats, but you can very clearly hear the change in beat frequency as you combine tones in different combinations. It’s very cool.
Also quite unnerving after a while. woobwoobwoobwoobwoob
We have many, many compasses scattered about the department. The vast majority come and go as part of the toy kits for PHYS 212, tiny ones useful for illustrating the effects of magnetic fields. Probably more that than for wilderness orienteering. Note: a physics toy kit, despite its educational and entertainment value, is probably insufficient on its own for wilderness survival. Check with the fine folks at Outdoor Education & Leadership for that.
One of the entertaining compass demos is to array a circle of them around an unshielded wire, and seeing the effect of turning the current on and off. Half a dozen little red arrows snapping to attention never loses its neat-o quality.
There’s also this little gem, tucked away in one of our closets. Inscribed with a nice little dedication, reading “TO BUCKNEL / A FRIEND” on the side. Which, the longer you look at it, seems a little less clear each time.
Maybe you had to be there? Interpret it as you will.
Sometimes, stuff just lingers. It’s unclear how long it’s been sitting on this or any shelf, whether it has any use anymore, how on earth to dispose of it, etc. Of course, those odd objects tend to sport some of the coolest old labels.
So much to enjoy here! Buddy the dog, holding a flag with his name, but also helpfully labeled below as “Buddy,” just in case it wasn’t obvious enough. Directions for using metal polish on non-metallic surfaces, which – to be fair – might not be obvious. (Still mostly amounts to wipe on with a soft cloth, wipe off with a soft cloth.) The prime visual real estate for “Non-Inflammable,” which is an entertaining reminder of the flammable/inflammable quirk of the English language. What a country!
It’s not entirely clear if the yellow color was an original choice or has been caused by many years of aging paper.
At any rate, the steel cap is thoroughly corroded shut, so there’s no telling what remains inside. Whether that corrosion is caused by or despite the contents of the Capital Metal Polish container, we’ll never know.
When you have a regular need to open lots of doors – accessing equipment, supplying labs and classrooms, helping coworkers find their misplaced keys – the powers that be may be kind enough to cut you a master key. Saves time, effort, and several pounds of metal on a keyring. They are, of course, master keys with a limited range. Certain doors are off-limits.
The access door to the elevator-base maintenance? That’s a place we don’t need to be. It’s only important that we don’t stack anything of substance on top. (The roll of plastic seen here could be blown away by a light breeze.) Not that it wouldn’t be neat to have a look inside – after all, who wouldn’t like to check out some new kind of specialized machinery? – but if the elevator’s working, maybe let it be.
That said, it’s hard not to be fascinated by the accompanying light switch:
Sure. Of course. How else would you label it? Dark, forbidden basements should always get the proper horror movie styling.
And then there’s the nubbin of a switch. Makes one wonder. Can’t possibly be from overuse. (Can it?) Implies that someone did that on purpose.
Maybe the answer’s down in the pit.