Good luck.
We can use all that good luck you were wishing us. I’m sure you had a productive lunch, too. Anyone willing to share information with us can eat (and sleep) with a clear conscience, knowing that he has led to the enlightenment of his fellow humans.
Submitted by Merrill Perlman of New York, New York.
Why Is the Tenor Oboe Called an “English Horn” When It Is Neither English Nor a Horn?
Dr. Kristin Thelander, professor of music at the University of Iowa School of Music, among many other experts we contacted, assured us that the “English horn” was, indeed, invented in France. No one knew exactly why or how the instrument got classified as a horn.
But the true mystery is how the credit for this instrument migrated to England. Dr. Margaret Downie Banks, curator of The Shrine to Music Museum and Center for Study of the History of Musical Instruments at the University of South Dakota, told Imponderables that the existence of the instrument can be traced back at least to the seventeenth century. According to Banks, in the early eighteenth century the English horn was called the wald-hautbois (forest oboe),
a name which Baroque composers such as Johann Sebastian Bach and others italianized to oboe da caccia (hunting oboe).
About 1760, the name corni inglesi (English horn) shows up in scores for music by Haydn and Gluck; but it remains unknown just why the tenor oboe was designated the “English horn.”
So what happened between the early eighteenth century and 1760 to change the name of the instrument to the English horn? Some of our experts, such as Alvin Johnson, of the American Musicological Society, and Peggy Sullivan, executive secretary of the Music Educators National Conference, were willing to speculate. They offered an oft-told but possibly apocryphal explanation: that our term is a corruption of cor anglé, French for “angled horn.” Although they were originally straight, like “regular” oboes, instrument makers started putting angles or curves on English horns in the early eighteenth century when the instrument was used in hunting.
So, the theory goes, the English were fooled by a homonym. (Anglé and anglais do sound alike in French.) And being good chauvinists, the angled horn metamorphosed into the English horn.
We documented many instances of English words and phrases that were based on mispronunciations or misunderstandings or foreign terms in Who Put the Butter in Butterfly? So we’ll bite on this theory.
Submitted by Robert C. Probasco of Moscow, Idaho.
Why Are Our Fingers Different Lengths? For Example, Is There a Reason Why the “Pinkie” Is Shorter Than the “Index”?
About the only angry letters we get around here are responses to answers of ours that assume the validity of evolutionary theory. But if you ask an authority, such as Dr. William P. Jollie, chairman of the Anatomy Department at the Medical College of Virginia, about this Imponderable, an evolutionary approach is what you are going to get:
…anatomically, fingers are digits (our other digits are toes) and people, like all four-legged vertebrate animals, have digits characteristic both for the large group to which they belong (called a class: amphibians, reptiles, mammals) and for a smaller group within the class (called an order: rodents, carnivores, primates). So we have five fingers of a length that is characteristic for the hands of primate mammals.
Of course, there is variation among different species and even variation among individual members of the same species. Some people have ring fingers noticeably longer than their index fingers; in others, the fingers are the same length. We once knew a woman whose second toe was an inch or more longer than her “big” toe.
But is there any rhyme or reason for the relative size of our digits? Dr. Duane Anderson, of the Dayton Museum of Natural History, was the only source we contacted who emphasized the role of the fingers (and hands) in grabbing objects:
Pick up a tennis ball and you will see the fingers are all the same length. Length is an adaptation to swinging in trees initially, and then picking things up. An “even hand” would be less versatile. A long little finger, for example, would get smashed more often.
Biologist John Hertner, of Kearney State College, says that two characteristics of the digits of higher vertebrates reflect possible reasons for the unequal lengths. First, there is evidence that we can locomote more effectively with smaller outer toes. Second, over time, many higher vertebrates have a tendency to lose some structures altogether (e.g., horses have lost all but one toe).
Might humans lose a digit or two in the next few hundred million years? Unfortunately, neither the evolutionists nor the creationists will be here to find out.
Submitted by Marisa Peacock of Worcester, Massachusetts.
Why Are Sticks of Margarine and Butter Thicker and Shorter in the Western United States and Longer and Narrower in the East?
Who says we don’t tackle important questions in the Imponderables books?
We’d love to develop a Freudian analysis to explain this phenomenon. (Are sticks of margarine phallic symbols more threatening to westerners?) Or perhaps a sociological one. (Might the fitness-crazed westerners feel superior to their stubby little western sticks?) But the real answer is a tad more prosaic.
Until recent times, dairies were local or regional in their distribution. For reasons that nobody we contacted could explain, what the industry refers to as the “western-style stick” developed out of local custom. When the behemoth dairy companies attained national distribution, they soon found that it was easier to reconfigure their molds than it was to change consumers’ preferences.
So large companies like Breakstone and Land O’Lakes make two different packages, one for the West and the other for the rest of the country. In many cases, the western sticks are packaged four in a row, while the eastern counterparts are placed two by two. This also, of course, makes no particular sense.
Submitted by Alan B. Heppel of West Hollywood, California. Thanks also to Jeff Sconyers of Seattle, Washington, and Connie Krenz of Bloomer, Wisconsin.
Why Do Plastic Milk Cases Contain a Warning That Their “Unauthorized Use Is Illegal and Enforced by Health Department and Penal Codes”?
What do certain firearms, heroin, and milk cartons have in common? Possession of each may be punishable by law. Although the wording above is used in California, many states forbid the unauthorized use of milk cartons.
Why the fuss? To get the answer, we contacted our favorite dairy Imponderables solver, Bruce Snow, recently retired from the Dairylea Cooperative in New York. If you wish to retain your faith in humanity, you may want to skip this explanation:
For more years than I care to remember, the milk dealers in New York (and other urban areas) lost several million dollars a year on purloined plastic milk cases. Never in the history of man has anything been invented for which so many uses have been found: bookcases; sidewalk flower displays; tool chests; album storage; toy boxes; transport cases for miscellanea; step stools, etc., ad infinitum.
It finally got so bad that milk dealers petitioned their legislators to make possession of a dealer’s milk case illegal, subject to a fine. The dealer must have his name on the case, by law.
Theft wasn’t all the dealers were contending with. Supermarkets, which daily received thousands of cases around New York, were profligate in their use of plastic cases [which currently cost $2.50 or more] to build displays, cart trash, and carry stuff home. Why not? It didn’t cost them anything.
Now, however, the New York State law requires that markets must account for all cases to their milk suppliers. They are required by law to pay $2.00 for every case unaccounted for. Consequently, there is now much stricter control over the cases.
As a final note, it was discovered by some city milk dealers that shipments of new cases were being stolen, sent to plastic recyclers for some amount of money, to reappear as any one of a vast multitude of plastic gewgaws. All in all, it was a very big rathole through which a big piece of milk-generated money (ultimately from consumers) was being lost. The law has
not eliminated all theft, but it has sharply reduced the problem.
The great irony, of course, is that the milk carton laws turn the tables on retailers. Supermarkets, often so reluctant to process recycled bottles and cans, now must do the same thing themselves, further proof that recycling efforts seem to work only when strong financial incentives exist.
Submitted by Mitch Hubbard of Rancho Palos Verdes, California. Thanks also to Gregory Reis of Torrance, California.
Why Does Shampoo Lather So Much Better on the Second Application?
Even if our hands and hair are already wet, we can’t seem to get a healthy lather on the first try when we shampoo our hair. But after we rinse, the shampoo foams up like crazy. Why is lather more luxuriant the second time around?
Evidently, it’s because we have greasy hair, according to Dr. John E. Corbett, vice-president of technology at Clairol:
In the first shampoo application, the lather is suppressed by the oils in the hair. When the oils are rinsed off [by the first application], the shampoo lathers much better on the second application.
Submitted by Joe Schwartz of Troy, New York.
Why Don’t Cigarette Butts Burn? Is There a Particular Barrier Between the Tobacco and the Filter That Prevents the Burn?
Even cigarettes without filters don’t burn quickly. If the shredded tobacco is packed tightly enough, not enough oxygen is available to feed the combustion process. The degree of porosity of the paper surrounding the tobacco rod can also regulate the degree of burn.
On a filter cigarette, however, an extra impediment is placed on the combustion process; luckily, it is not asbestos. Mary Ann Usrey, of R. J. Reynolds, explains:
The filter is attached to the tobacco rod by a special “tipping” paper which is essentially non-porous. This paper acts to extinguish the burning coal by significantly reducing the available oxygen. So, in effect, there is a barrier between the tobacco and the filter, but it is around the cigarette, not actually between the tobacco and the filter in the interior of the cigarette.
Submitted by Frank H. Anderson of Prince George, Virginia.
What Are You Hearing When You Shake a Light Bulb?
Would you believe the ocean? We didn’t think so.
Actually, what you are hearing depends upon whether you are shaking a functional or a burned-out bulb. If you are shaking a newish, functioning bulb, chances are you are hearing the delightful sound of loose tungsten particles left over in the bulb’s glass envelope during its manufacturing process.
According to Peter Wulff, editor of Home Lighting & Accessories, these loose particles don’t affect the bulb’s operation or lifespan. Wulff adds that although the tungsten particles aren’t left in the bulb deliberately, at one time manufacturers of high-wattage tungsten halogen bulbs did leave such residue: “Occasionally, it was recommended that after use and after the bulb cooled, the bulb should be turned upside down and then shaken to allow the loose particles to clean the inside of the glass.”
But today if you hear something jangling around, chances are that you are shaking a burned-out bulb. In fact, this is the way most consumers determine whether a bulb is “dead.” Richard H. Dowhan, of GTE Products, told Imponderables that in this case you are hearing particles of a broken filament, “the most common type of bulb failure.” Barring the rare case of loose tungsten particles inside the bulb, Dowhan says “you should hear nothing when you shake a light bulb that is still capable of lighting.”
Submitted by Kari Rosenthal of Bangor, Maine.
Why Do Fluorescent Lights Make a Plinking Noise When You Turn Them On?
We went to Peter Wulff again for our answer. Older fluorescent fixtures used a “preheat system,” which featured a bimetallic starter (the small, round, silver piece). Wulff told us that inside the starter is a bimetallic switch which “pings” when energized. Newer fluorescent systems, such as the “preheat” or “rapid start,” are rendering the “ping” a relic of our nostalgic past.
Submitted by Van Vandagriff of Ypsilanti, Michigan. Thanks also to Kathleen Russell of Grand Rapids, Michigan; Cuesta Schmidt of West New York, New Jersey; and Walter Hermanns of Racine, Wisconsin.
Why Do Cats Like So Much to Be Scratched Behind the Ears?
Most cats like to be scratched for the same reason that most humans like to be massaged: It feels good. According to veterinarian John E. Saidla, assistant director of the Cornell Feline Health Center,
Most cats like to have their total bodies rubbed or stroked by humans. A cat’s skin is chock full of nerve endings, making your stroking a sensual experience.
But our skin is full of nerve endings, and not too many of us start wiggling our legs with delight when we’re scratched behind the ears. But then again, unlike cats, we don’t tend to have ear mites. Dr. Saidla explains:
Most cats harbor very few mites, while others have huge infections that are causing serious clinical problems. The mite in the ear canal burrows into the layers of skin lining the ear canal. The cat is allergic, or at least, reacts to the feces and enzymes the mite produces, resulting in pruritus or itching. When the owner rubs the skin behind the ear, it feels good and the cat responds appreciatively.
Submitted by Robert J. Abrams of Boston, Massachusetts.
Why Aren’t There Plums in Plum Pudding? And Why Is It Called a Pudding Rather Than a Cake?
Even though it contains flour and is as sweet and rich as any cake, plum pudding cannot be classified as a cake because it contains no leavening and is not baked, but steamed.
Besides flour, plum pudding contains suet, sugar, and spices and is studded with raisins and currants. In early America, both raisins and currants were referred to as “plums” or “plumbs.” And presumably because the raisins and currants were the only visually identifiable ingredients in the dessert (which traditionally was served after the pumpkin pie at Thanksgiving), the nickname stuck.
Come to think of it, plum pudding isn’t the only weirdly named dessert served at Thanksgiving. We used to ask our parents where the meat was in mincemeat pie.* Give us an honest pumpkin pie any day.
Submitted by Bert Garwood of Grand Forks, North Dakota.
What Do the Little Red Letter and Number Stamped on the Back of My Envelope Mean?
When the arm of the United States Postal System’s Multi-Position Letter Sort Machine (or, as we close friends like to call it, MPLSM) picks up an envelope, it automatically stamps a letter and number on the back. The letter identifies which MPLSM processes the piece, and the number singles out which console on the machine, and thus which MPLSM operator, handles the piece.
This code has nothing to do with delivering the letter. The code is simply a way for the USPS to identify when a particular machine, or its operator, is malfunctioning. In other words, the A4 on the back of your envelope is the equivalent of the “Inspected by 8” label you sometimes find in the pocket of your new jacket.
Although it is our experience that most of the MPLSM codes are red, a casual glance at our voluminous mail indicates that brown and purple are popular, too. Frank P. Brennan, Jr., general manager of media relations for the USPS, says that each tour or shift has its own color.
Not every letter is processed by a MPLSM; increasingly, the USPS is relying on optical scanners. Scanners may be faster than MPLSMs, but without that red code, they can’t be held as accountable as MPLSMs when they screw up, either.
Why Do Owners or Handlers Use the Word “Sic” to Instruct a Dog to “Get Him”?
Dog World magazine was kind enough to print our query about this Imponderable in their June 1990 issue. We were soon inundated with letters from dog lovers, the most comprehensive of which came from Fred Lanting, of the German Shepherd Dog Club of America:
The command “sic” comes from a corruption of the German word such, which means to seek or search. It is used by Schutzhund [guardian and protection] and police trainers as well as by people training dogs for tracking. If the command “sic” is issued, it means that the dog
is to find the hidden perpetrator or victim. In German, sic is pronounced “sook” or “suk,” but like many foreign words, the pronunciation has been altered over time by those not familiar with the language.
“Sic” has developed from [what was originally] a command to find a hidden bad guy, who [in training exercises] is usually covered by a box or hiding in an open pyramidal canvas blind. Because in police and Schutzhund training the bad guy is attacked if he tries to hit the dog or run away, the word has become associated with a command to attack.
Lanting’s answer brings up another Imponderable: If “sic” is a misspelling of the German word, should it be printed as “‘sic’ (sic)”?
Submitted by Annie Lloyd of Merced, California.
In Baseball Scoring, Why Is the Letter “K” Chosen to Designate a Strikeout?
Do Penguins Have Knees? Page 5
