James L Adams—People and Products

Good Show and Challenging Task

I just returned from one of my favorite antique machinery shows—— The Oregon Steam up, held on the last weekend in July and the first weekend in August in Brooks, Oregon, north of Salem and South of Portland at Antique Powerland just off U.S. highway 5.  There are a very large number of such shows in the world each year, but this one is outstanding for the breadth of old machinery there and in operation, the well-done museums on the land (which are open during the year), and the swell and knowledgeable people who put it on, and who show and demonstrate their stuff.   For me, it is also of a nice scale and convenient because it is on the West Coast of the U.S. in one of my favorite states.  If you are interested in antique machinery you will especially enjoy this gathering, because of its emphasis on both steam and gas equipment and the in-place large engines, sawmill, etc. If  you are not interested in antique machinery you should be.  Don't you wish you had the vehicle in the photo above to go shopping in?

 But I had another reason for my visit.  Some years ago I began restoring a McCormick Daisy reaper, a machine that is in the American history books, and is fascinating to watch, as after it cuts the hay, it has arms that sweep it off of a deck onto the ground in piles, which can then be tied together and taken to the next stage of the harvesting process.  The six  arms can be controlled so that every arm sweeps the deck each pass, every other sweeps, every third arm, etc. My problem is that the very critical part that controls all of this is missing from my machine.  So I need to make one.

 There is one of the few complete Daisy reapers like mine that I know of at the Brooks show.  A photograph is below.   The part I need is sort of contained in the red outline in the photo below (apologies for the photo— the white blur at the bottom is my hand), although many weird curves and shapes are not visible.  The part includes the pivot. A complex curve hidden in the photo, the hook at the top, a curved rack of gear teeth that must engage the worm gear inside the main casting as the part turns upon its pivot, and a contact pad at the top of the rack.

I have several problems in re-creating it.  First of all, it is difficult to make, since it is a casting with no symmetry, no “parting lines” which would allow a mold to be separated, and critical and strange alignments between the parts which interact with the surrounding parts.

And, don’t say 3d printing —been there.  Three dimensional printing is not as easy as the media makes it seem, especially if scanning is involved,  and I want a steel part.  Sure I could make a mold from the part and cast it, but not surprisingly, the owner and museum were not eager to let me take the machine apart (also difficult) and take the part 400 miles away to use as a master while I copied it in my shop and Stanford’s foundry.  Had I been them, I would have felt the same.

 So I went to Brooks to take many photographs and make measurements (which I did) to work from.  Even with them, it will be a challenging job, as there were no base points on the part or machine to measure from, so I will have to cut and try and weld and curse until I get a prototype that will do the job, and then make a finished version from the prototype. But strangely enough, I love to do that sort of thing.

 I will write a post on the process and the finished part, but don’t hold your breath.  I am guessing several weeks, since my life is beautifully endowed with many other things to do, many higher on Marian's priority list than my making this part.

The Vanishing Machine Aesthetic

I really miss being able to see the details of machines.  Not only are they exciting, but often beautiful.  I am suspect, of course, being an engineer, but so be it.  When I was a kid, I used to love standing too close to steam powered railroad locomotives, not only for the emotional thrill of their size and sounds, but also to try to figure out how they worked (possible for a kid in those days).  I don’t stand too close to modern train locomotives, or in fact, even notice them.

 Something happened many years ago (1920’s and 30’s) to start us hiding the workings of machinery. 
The photo at the left shows a caterpillar 30, probably built in the 1920’s, with the usual kid playing on it.  The next photo shows a restored caterpillar 10 manufactured a few years later, but with a more “modern” approach to design.  Note that the workings are shrouded in sheet metal.  The third photo shows a beat up caterpillar 10 without the sheet metal (I am restoring it and straightening out the sheet metal).  To me, it is more interesting without the sheet metal, but I will put it back on so it doesn’t bother people.

The final tractor photo shows a caterpillar tractor manufactured in 1995.  Certainly looks faster (it is) and more powerful (it is) and more technically sophisticated (it is), but what is inside of its sports-car body panels?  Give or take a bunch of electronics and a steering wheel rather than clutch/brake levers, it is similar.  But I’ll bet the reaction of most people (not farmers) is not to care—they just like the exterior. (I do admit it is a great tractor and I like the exterior also).  But this tractor is perhaps more difficult to understand and to maintain than the Caterpillar 30, as well as not as much fun for kids to play on.

 

I think it is worrisome that we are no longer paying as much attention to how things work.  Personal computers are a good example —no clue as to what is in the package.  In fact, most of us are perhaps happier that way.  But the role technology is playing is increasing so that hiding it may delude us, especially if covered with modern marketing. The “Cloud”, being touted by companies with enormous server capability (Google, Apple, IBM, Amazon, etc.) is causing massive ignorance.  Traditional clouds are beautiful, especially close to sunset, the weightlessly drift through the sky, ever changing, and hopefully in California promise eventual much needed rain, and in summer cooler weather.  They are almost magic.

 The “Cloud” being sold by computer companies is another example of intentionally hiding technology that our society should better understand.  It consists of access to the company servers (not all servers), and is an attempt by the company to function as our digital memory and provide our operating systems, applications, and other software (conveniently allowing them to charge us a monthly fee).  This cloud consists of glass fibers and other conductors under ground, on the ocean floor, and occasionally in sewers, feeding massive number of digital devices in anonymous , windowless, extremely hot  buildings that suck  huge amounts of electrical energy not only to accomplish their function, but also to prevent themselves from overheating.  Some time ago I mentioned a book entitled Tubes, by Andrew Blum.  An excellent read if you think the “Cloud” is either beautiful or magic, or if you don't understand the physical components of the internet.

 What’s happened to us?  Many things, but the directions of technology and the strengthening of the design profession have certainly had large inputs.  The realization of the advantages of low-drag aircraft, beginning with the evolution of fighter planes and the design of airplanes such as the DC-3 in 1934 was certainly instrumental.  The photo at the right  shows a famous pencil sharpener prototype designed by one of the leading designers of the 1930’s, Raymond Loewy in 1933.  It never hit the market.  But granted that it would only sharpen one size of pencil, it does look like it could move through one’s office rapidly, and would have probably sold because of the then love of “streamlining”.  I have opened the hood of a few “luxury” cars only to find that the engine is almost entirely shrouded, although it represents a high level of craftsmanship.  And I can tell long and now amusing stories of putting a new battery into my admittedly sleek Apple iPhone.

 I am for unwrapping and better understanding how things work.  Not only is it interesting, but we can better evaluate what we are doing to ourselves.

 

Cyanoacrylate, CA, “Super Glue”, or Whatever. A Wonderful Product

Some people are dependent on alcohol, some on heroin, but I am addicted to cyanoacrylate (industrial nickname CA).  It has saved me huge amounts of time in my life, enabled me to impress my family and friends by my ability to perform instant repairs, allowed us to keep fragile items in our house within reach of children and then grandchildren, secure in the knowledge that I can fix them when they are broken, and been critical to various strange hobbies I have.

 It has been a part of my life since soon after it became available in the late 1950’s.  I first met CA while working in the Jet Propulsion Laboratory (JPL) in Pasadena, California.  It was sold by Eastman Kodak, where it was invented, and was called Eastman 910.  At JPL it was first used by the test engineers, who needed to rapidly place accelerometers on prototype spacecraft to measure the effects of simulated launch vibrations—these vibrations being perhaps the most severe portion of the launch environment.  Since CA adhesives in their pure form set in seconds, make strong bonds, and are immune to high temperatures and most solvents, they were perfect for attaching these accelerometers.  And conveniently, CA is not immune to acetone, which softens the set glue and allowed the accelerometers to be removed and attached elsewhere if desired.

 I first discovered CA as the result of a common prank played on new employees (those were the days of pranking, which I sorely miss).  Lubrication of mechanical components is always a problem in space, because most lubricants will “outgas”, and spread a thin layer of themselves on neighboring surfaces.  Not good, since such surfaces are critical for temperature control, and one would like the lubricants to stay where they are needed. Eastman 910 came in small bottles with a pouring spout, and the prank was to find an innocent engineer (me), tell them that there was this amazing new lubricant that would not outgas, and which was a superior lubricant to any others available.  “Try it”, the prankster would say. “Put a couple of drops on a finger, and rub it against another finger, and  you will be amazed”.  Amazed we were, because the fingers instantly glued together, and tightly enough that if not told about acetone, would have required slicing apart with a razor blade.  As you can see from the Wikipedia information here, one of the uses of CA is to glue skin together in cases of wounds, surgery, and other applications.  I later found out that in three or four days they could be separated even without acetone, but life is somewhat less convenient with two fingers glued together for even a short time.

 Although at this time, the glue was rare and expensive, it is now common and very affordable (a little goes a long way).  It is sold under various trade names, such as Super Glue and Krazy Glue, and often tricked up with other components so it can be marketed more easily.  But I am a purist, and stick to the straight stuff.  I usually buy it in the model section of hobby shops.  The small bottles (1/2 ounce) are often enough, since over time it is almost impossible to keep them from terminally plugging up.  It usually comes in three thicknesses.  The “thin” sets within a few seconds and makes the strongest bond if the joint is in good contact.  The “gap filling” is the middle one, takes longer to set, but does not require as tight a mechanical joint.  I never use the thickest version, which can handle even more “gap”, because part of the magic is the very rapid setting time, compared to other glues.  Clamping is rarely needed.  It is usually possible to apply the glue, hold the parts together a bit, and voila – mission accomplished.

 The skill, strangely enough, is to use it without gluing your fingers together, gluing parts to your fingers, getting it on your clothes or your best furniture, or otherwise losing control of the magic fluid.  But a few embarrassing accidents will help you learn.  One of my early ones resulted in my gluing a finger of each hand to a small pot that had broken into several pieces.  I was so intent in holding the pieces together I neglected to realize what was  happening.   I was working in the garage, but  looking around, I could see no acetone.  I remembered that my wife had finger-nail polish remover (acetone) in the house, so I went to find it.  But unknown to me, she had gone on an errand and locked the doors of the house.  Since the glue had set and the pot was repaired, I did not want to re-break it.  But ever try to get a full key ring out of the pocket of tight Levis with both hands glued to a pot?  No cell phones in those days, and even if there had been, at that point in my life I would have been reluctant to give my colleagues, friends,and  neighbors, the tasty story that hot-shot Ph.D. rocket scientist Adams had glued his hands to a pot.  Fortunately I was more agile in those days, got the key free without re-breaking the pot, opened the door, found the finger-nail polish remover, and managed to apply it to my attached fingers (and a bit on the floor and bathroom counter) before my wife returned.

 A professionally valuable result of my early exposure to CA, was that I became fascinated with glue, and how it works.  In fact, in retrospect I was becoming annoying at JPL, because I could see no reason why most of the spacecraft was not glued together, instead of using such archaic means as nuts and bolts, rivets, and welds.  The knowledge I acquired has served me in good stead all of my life.  Thank you, Eastman Kodak. 

 Incidentally, while you are in the hobby shop, buy yourself some 5 minute epoxy and hardener if you don’t have any.  Not as strong a joint as regular epoxy glue, but you probably don’t need that much strength, and 5 minutes is better than 5 hours. 

Bondo—An Old and Outstanding Product

Bondo, is a two component epoxy putty, originally developed in 1955 by Robert Spink, a car repairman in Florida.  Although it has changed in composition, it is still the foremost body putty used to repair irregularities in sheet metal auto body parts.  I first discovered it soon after it came on the market while involved in repairing minor damage to first my, and then my family cars.  It has a bad reputation with some people (a short cut and plastic), but certainly helps even out the surface after the sheet metal is pounded out to near its original shape.  Although there are many other epoxy based putties now, Bondo still holds its own.

 Since that time, I have found a multitude of uses for the material, from repairing damage to wooden porch floors in our 100 plus year old house, to stopping sewer leaks.  I sometimes think that the reason the Roman empire collapsed was because they did not have Bondo.

 But now I am worried a bit about the product.  The company was bought in 2007 by 3M, a large and successful company, that is using the Bondo brand on a variety of consumer products.  But I recently bought a new can of Bondo, and found that it was labeled as a “body repair kit”.  The kit part apparently refers not only to the body putty, but also a tiny (2 inch square) plastic applicator, and two so-called self adhesive patches made of a metal mesh.  I assume these are intended to bridge a hole in the sheet metal until enough Bond iss applied to seal the hole—but you don’t want to do that.  You want to weld, or at least rivet in, a metal patch and go from there.  And a two inch applicator?  The “kit” part was downright insulting. Bondo is obviously fishing for the DIY (Do It Yourself) market, but it takes a bit of experience to use Bondo well, and probably more than a two inch applicator.  I would suggest at least a reference on the can to one of the many excellent instruction videos on using Bondo available on Youtube . A fully set mishapen, lumpy mass of Bondo on his/her car would take the fun out of any DIYer's day (I incidentally am a veteran DIY person).

 And I noticed the can was not full —  hopefully not the grocery store game (keep the container size and the price, and cut the contents).  Maybe Bondo cans were never full, but I do not remember that being the case. The attached photo shows the freshly opened can, the crème hardener and the “patch” folded around the tiny applier.

 I also recently began using a wood filler now provided by Bondo, also a two component putty, that seems to set a bit softer, is more compatible with sanding and drilling, and can be stained to some extent.  But it sets at least as fast (3 to 5 minutes after mixing). On a car, Bondo’s fast setting time is a benefit, because usually one smears it onto the sanded sheet metal over a fairly large and reasonable even area. Then one planes it (with a so-called cheese grater) and sands it with increasingly fine paper as it sets until one gets the desired result. But in repairing wood, especially in a house, it is not always possible to place the mixed putty in the proper place and smooth it as one might want to in such a short time, since house repairs often require a bit of acrobatics and forcing the filler into  nooks, crannies, and crevices.  But hopefully the manufacturers will realize that car body repair and the repair of wood products are often two different things, and at least come up with an option of a slightly slower-setting wood filler— how about ten minutes instead of five?

I am praying for the continued high quality of Bondo products.  Hopefully, the long established reputation (brand) is not being  used mainly to rapidly improve the cash flow of 3M.  But marketing and potential quick profit have stolen the mind of many well meaning and venerable companies.