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.”
In 1963, one could purchase a Standard Astro-Dome with a 17′ inside diameter for the low, low price of $14,667. It must have been a worthwhile investment, because we’re still using it 60+ years later with no plans to update or replace it anytime soon.
Among the stacks and stacks of old records and books at the Observatory, we have a substantial text discussing best practices for astrophotography from…
1895. Sweet.
You may read a scanned version online if so inclined. Fun to note that, broadly speaking, the difficulties remain. With every improvement in technology comes an increased ability to explore and a growing expectation of quality, so there’s always opportunity to do better. From page 2:
“In order to appreciate the accuracy with which the mechanical adjustments must be made, and the care with which they must be used, we should recollect that in a telescope of sixteen feet focal length, a second of arc is rather less than .001 of an inch, — a quantity quite invisible to the naked eye. We are required, therefore, to keep a mass of metal weighing several hundred pounds following the star with such accuracy, for perhaps an hour, that it shall not for any length of time shift to one side of the other from its true position by this amount.“
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.
Five cents seems reasonable.
Idle thoughts bubble:
What an interesting array of flavors! Belmont? Mallowfudge? Creole Nut? Presumably Caramallow is a caramel-marshmallow hybrid, whatever that meant in practice.
Why is it Coconut Cream, but all of the others are ordered as Cream Almond or Cream Walnut? (Cream Brazil Nut?)
“Pure = Wholesome” feels appropriately late-19th-century and kind of creepy.
“Rich In Food Value” feels appropriately early-20th-century and definitely creepy. Or possibly written by ChatGPT; still creepy.
It’s not uncommon for any place to collect things and never quite discard them, and it only grows worse when there’s no single person in charge of them. On some old shelves at the Observatory, we have no shortage of 19th-century astronomical observations from all around the world. A few select favorites recently spotted: Havana, Cuba; Hyderabad, India; Tachkent (now Tashkent), Uzbekistan.
Oldest so far spotted: Washington Astronomical Observations, 1848.
Been around a while.
Part of the library collection since 1856. Wonder if the library knows? (We’ve put in a call to the proper folks, so no worries.)
We have a whole range of “old” telescopes at the Observatory which, depending on context, can mean state-of-the-art for the 1990s or the 1890s. This, most likely, is our oldest. It’s a lovely old brass refractor set on a fine wooden tripod, and with a properly-fitted eyepiece might work just fine. Not that we’re setting it outside anytime soon. It’s a showpiece!
How old is it? The acquisition date is currently unknown – probably recorded someplace in all of these stacks of papers – but certainly prior to 1886, because it wasn’t given to Bucknell University, but rather to the Lewisburg University, which is what this school was up until that point. That particular bit of information does confirm that it’s older than our big Clark refractor (1887) and our wee Ertel & Sohn transit telescope (1889).
Shiny!
“Presented *to the* LEWISBURG UNIVERSITY by Benj. Pike Jr. Optician 294 Broadway New York”
Second point of interest: Benjamin Pike, Jr. was located at 294 Broadway during 1843-44, as near we can tell. But the University at Lewisburg was founded in 1846. Benjamin Pike, Jr. lived from 1808 to 1864, giving us a reasonable last-possible year. So, um, wave your hands and call it circa [insert whatever]. It’s old, brass, and pretty cool.
It’s unclear who made the telescope, too. Pike (like his papa before him) was an optician by trade, and so would have known his way around lenses. None of the quickly-searchable web sources mentions telescopes, though, so maybe he just knew the right sort of gift for ol’ William Bucknell? It’s entirely possible another department on campus has a set of his award-winning surveyors’ tools. We’ve got theodolites in the closet – as one does – but none quite so vintage.
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.
Sometimes the old stuff is impressive in its longevity. Here, found in a stairwell in Olin Science, an old electromagnetic fluorescent 2-lamp ballast from… maybe the early ’60s? It’s got that proper audible-frequency buzz, a housing that looks cast, not extruded, and unless the first one fizzled in the ’70s – entirely possible – this sucker might be original to the building.
One day, it’ll expire, bound for disposal as hazardous waste. (Don’t think too hard about the undoubtedly toxic materials all loaded up inside that little black box.) Until then, it hums and buzzes away in the stairwell, illuminating the space with a pallid, cold glow.
Yeah, nobody misses fluorescent lights all that much.
Our old iron optics rails get very little use anymore, as we phase them and their accessories out. Most of them, that is.
We may not use the old glass lenses much – sometimes, not often – but the spring-loaded holders still come out from time to time. They grip certain oddly-shaped objects well, and their heavy iron bases do an excellent job of keeping things like fiber optic cables upright and in place.
Rapidly approaching 60 years old, lens holder. April 1963, $6.25. That’s $61.31 in today’s dollars.
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!