Before the days of area codes, operators connected all long distance calls and many toll calls. When the Bell system started manufacturing telephones with dials, users were able to make many of their own local and toll connections. When direct dialing was instituted, phone numbers consisted of two letters and five numbers. A number we now call 555-5555 might have then been expressed as KL5-5555. And the phone company provided a nifty mnemonic for each exchange.
So the phone company assigned three letters, in alphabetical order, to each dial number. The number one was skipped because one was assigned as an access code and for internal phone company use (many phone companies used three-digit numbers starting with 1-1…for directory assistance and repair lines); the zero was avoided because it automatically summoned the operator, regardless of subsequent numbers dialed. So there were eight numbers on the dial that needed letters and twenty-six letters available. Eight goes into twenty-six an inconvenient three and one-quarter times. Two of the letters had to be discarded.
Sure, the phone company could have simply dropped the last two letters of the alphabet, but in our opinion they selected well. What letters are less commonly used and more easily discarded than the two letters valuable only to Scrabble players—“Q” and “Z”? “Q” would have been a problematic choice at best. How can you make an effective mnemonic when virtually all words starting with “Q” must be followed by a “U”? If “Q” had its “rightful” place on the number 7, 8 (where “U” is located”) would usually have to follow, severely limiting the numbers assignable to the exchange.
“Z,” of course, is the last letter and accustomed to suffering the usual indignities of alphabetical order. Maybe the thought of a phone number starting with “ZEbra,” “ZInnia,” or “ZAire” is overwhelmingly exciting to someone, but for the most part its loss has not been missed.
Submitted by Robert Abrams of Boston, Massachusetts, and a cast of thousands.
Why Is the Middle Digit of North American Area Codes Always a 0 or a 1?
The Bell system introduced three-digit area codes in 1945. Bell was quite aware of the cost savings in direct dialing for long distance calls but also knew that unless it could devise a system to distinguish area codes from the first three digits of ordinary local phone numbers, an operator would have to switch calls.
All ten-digit phone numbers consists of three parts: an area code (the first three numbers); an office code (the next three numbers); and a line number (the last four numbers). We have already explained in the last Imponderable why no office code could start with a 0 or 1. When the Bell system created the area code, it initially extended the “ban” on zeroes and ones to the second digit of the office code as well. By assigning all area codes a second digit of either 0 or 1, automatic switching equipment could differentiate between long distance calls and local or toll calls and route them accordingly. The equipment could also sort calls by the first digit—if the initial digit is a 1, a ten-digit number will follow; while an initial 2-9 means a seven-digit number will follow.
When the area code system was first instituted, all states with only one area code had a 0 as the middle digit; states with more than one area code used 1 for the middle digit of the area code. This practice had to be abandoned when the Bell system ran out of ones as more states needed more than one area code. Now, some populous states have area codes with middle digits of 0.
Because people and telephones have proliferated, the numbering system has had to change several times. The original configuration of office codes yielded a limit of 640 different numbers. To increase the number of office codes available, zeroes and ones have been added to the second digit of office codes, allowing for an eventual expansion of 152 extra office codes.
By the twenty-first century, we would probably run out of area codes if we kept the same numbering method. The phone system is preparing to introduce middle digits other than one or zero in the next century. As long as all long distance calls are preceded by one, it won’t be a problem.
Submitted by Carol Oppenheim of Owings Mill, Maryland.
Thanks also to Nicole Donovan of Wenham, Massachusetts.
Why Were Duels Always Fought at Dawn? Or Is This Depiction in Fiction and Movies Not True?
Not true, we’re afraid. Historians assured Imponderables that duels were fought at any time of the day. But dawn was definitely the preferred time; a duel fought in twilight could turn into more of a crapshoot than a gunshoot.
Doesn’t make much sense to us. We might be convinced to get up at dawn to go fishing. But if we knew we had an approximately fifty-fifty chance of dying on a particular day, we’d at least want a decent night’s sleep the night before and time for a doughnut or two before we fought.
Historian C. F. “Charley” Eckhardt speculates on this strange predilection of duelists to fight to the death at inconvenient hours:
Just at sunrise, if the list [the technical term for a dueling ground] was oriented north-south, neither man got the sun-to-the back advantage. Also, either the local law was still abed or, if there was a regular police force in the area, the day watch and night watch were changing shifts. Fighting at dawn minimized the likelihood of interference by the law, the same reason why many burglaries occur between 3 and 4 P.M. and 11 P.M. to midnight. Most police departments change shifts at 3 P.M., 11 P.M., and 7 A.M.
Submitted by Jan Anthony Verlaan of Pensacola, Florida.
What Exactly Are the Liberal Arts, and Who Designated Them So?
Our correspondent, Bill Elmendorf, contacted two four-year colleges and one two-year college for the answer to this question. Despite the fact that they were liberal arts colleges, none of the officials he spoke to could answer this question. Evidently, a good liberal arts education doesn’t provide you with the answer to what a liberal art is.
Actually, a consultation with an encyclopedia will tell you that the concept of the liberal arts, as developed in the Middle Ages, involved seven subjects: grammar, logic, rhetoric, arithmetic, geometry, music, and astronomy. Why astronomy and not biology? Why rhetoric and not art? For the answers to this question, we have to delve into the history of the liberal arts.
Our expression is derived from the Latin artes liberalis, “pertaining to a free man.” Liberal arts are contrasted with the “servile” arts, which have practical applications. As educator Tim Fitzgerald wrote Imponderables, “the liberal arts were considered ‘liberating,’ enabling the student to develop his or her potential beyond the mundane, to create, to be fully human, to (in the medieval mindset) believe.”
The notion of seven ennobling arts emerged long before the Middle Ages. In Proverbs 9:1, the Bible says, “Wisdom hath builded her house, she hath hewn out her seven pillars.” Robert E. Potter, professor of education at the University of Hawaii at Manoa, wrote Imponderables a fascinating letter tracing the history of the liberal arts. Before the birth of Christ and into the first century A.D., Roman writers like Cicero and Quintilian discussed the proper curriculum for the orator and public leader. Varro (116-27 B.C.) listed in his Libri Novem Disciplinarum the seven liberal arts but also included medicine and architecture.
Potter mentions that in the early Christian era, church elders opposed the classical liberal arts. Perhaps the most stirring condemnation was written in the Apostolic Constitutions in the third century:
Refrain from all the writings of the heathen for what has thou to do with strange discourses, laws, or false prophets, which in truth turn aside from the faith for those who are weak in understanding? For if thou wilt explore history, thou hast the Books of the Kings; or seekest thou for words of wisdom and eloquence, thou hast the Prophets, Job, and the Book of Proverbs, wherein thou shalt find a more perfect knowledge of all eloquence and wisdom, for they are the voice of the Lord.
Later Christian scholars, including Augustine, embraced the study of the liberal arts.
Potter calls Martianus Capella of Carthage’s The Marriage of Philology and Mercury the “definitive” work on the
liberal arts:
This fourth-century allegory had nine books. The first two described the wedding of the daughter of Wisdom, a mortal maiden who represented schooling, and Mercury, who, as the inventor of letters, symbolized the arts of Greece. The remaining seven books describe the bridesmaids. Apollo did not admit two other “bridesmaids,” medicine and architecture, “inasmuch as they are concerned with perishable earthly things.”
Many people attack the modern liberal arts education, saying that little is taught that pertains to our actual lives now. Little do they know that this lack of “relevance” is precisely what characterized the liberal arts from their inception. In ancient times, servile folks had to sully themselves with practical matters like architecture, engineering, or law. Only the elite freemen could ascend to the lofty plateau of the contemplation of arithmetic.
Today, the meaning of liberal arts is murky, indeed. Art, other hard sciences besides astronomy, foreign languages, philosophy, history, and most social sciences are often included under the umbrella of liberal arts. Just about any school that doesn’t train you for a particular profession is called a liberal arts institution.
Submitted by Bill Elmendorf of Lebanon, Illinois. Thanks also to Brianna Liu of Minneapolis, Minnesota.
Why Do Birds Tend to Stand on One Foot While Sleeping? Why Do Birds Tend to Bury Their Heads Under Their Wings While Sleeping?
In When Do Fish Sleep?, we discussed the amazing locking mechanism of birds’ toes that enables them to perch on telephone wires without falling off. In fact, they can perch just as easily while standing on only one leg. Since they can balance as easily on one leg as two, one of the main reasons for perching on one leg (whether or not they are sleeping) is simply to give the other leg a rest.
But birds also seek warmth, and perching on one foot gives them a “leg up” on the situation, as Nancy Martin, naturalist at the Vermont Institute of Natural Science, explains:
Since birds’ feet are not covered with feathers, they can lose significant amounts of body heat through their feet, especially when standing on ice or in cold water. With their high metabolic rates, birds usually try to conserve as much energy as possible, hence the habit of standing on one leg.
A corollary: Birds also stick their head under their feathers to preserve heat.
Submitted by Lee Dresser of Overland Park, Kansas. Thanks also to Jocelyn Noda of Los Angeles, California.
Why Is a Marshal or Sheriff’s Badge Traditionally a Five-Pointed Star but a Deputy’s Six-Pointed?
The five-pointed pentacle is the symbol of the United States Marshal’s Service. In ancient times, the pentacle was used by sorcerers and believed to impact magical powers. As late as the sixteenth century, soldiers wore pentacles around their necks in the belief that they made them invulnerable to enemy missiles.
But it turns out that even early American lawmen forged a new tradition of forsaking old traditions at the drop of a hat. It just isn’t true that sheriffs always wore five-pointed stars and their deputies six-pointed ones. Charles E. Hanson, Jr., director of The Museum of the Fur Trade in Chadron, Nebraska, wrote Imponderables that one could despair of trying to find logic to the patterns of badges:
There seems to be no fixed protocol on five- and six-pointed badges. In America, the five-point star has been preeminent from the beginning. It is the star in the flag, in the insignia of an army general, and on the Medal of Honor. It was obviously the logical choice for the first sheriffs’ badges.
When other shapes began to be used for badges, it seemed right that circles, shields, and six-pointed stars would be used for lesser legal representatives than the top lawman.
This didn’t hold true indefinitely. Our library has a 1913 supply catalog which offers five-point stars engraved “City Marshal” or “Chief of Police” and six-point stars engraved, “City Marshal,” “Sheriff,” “Constable,” “Detective,” etc.
Historian Charley Eckhardt has even developed a theory to explain why the five-point might have been inflated to six points: It was simply too hard to make a five-pointed star.
The five- and six-pointed star “tradition” seems to be purely a twentieth-century one. I’ve seen hundreds of badges from the nineteenth century, and they ranged from the traditional policeman’s shield to a nine-pointed sunburst. Five- and six-pointed stars predominated, but in no particular order—there was no definite plurality of five points in one group and six points in another. I have noticed, however, that the majority of the locally made star-shaped badges produced outside of Texas were six-pointed. There may be a reason for that.
When you cut a circle, if you take six chords equal to the radius of the circle and join them around the diameter, you will find that the chords form a perfect hexagon. If you join alternate points of the hexagon, you get two superimposed equilateral triangles—a six-pointed star. In order to lay out a pentagon within a circle—the basic figure for cutting a five-pointed star—you have to divide the circle into 72-degree arcs. This requires a device to measure angles from the center—or a very fine eye and a lot of trial and error. Since many badges, including many deputy sheriff and marshal badges, were locally made, it would have been much easier for the blacksmith or gunsmith turned badgemaker for a day to make a six-pointed star.
Who says that the shortage of protractors in the Old West didn’t have a major influence on American history?
Submitted by Eugene S. Mitchell of Wayne, New Jersey. Thanks also to Christopher Valeri of East Northport, New York.
When You Wear a Girdle, Where Does the Fat Go?
Depends upon the girdle. And depends upon the woman wearing the girdle.
Ray Tricarico, of Playtex Apparel, told Imponderables that most girdles have panels on the front to help contour the stomach. Many provide figure “guidance” for the hips and derriere as well.
“But where does the fat go?” we pleaded. If we cinch a belt too tight, the belly and love handles plop over the belt. If we poke ourselves in the ribs, extra flesh surrounds our fingers. And when Victorian ladies wore corsets, their nineteen-inch waists were achieved only by inflating the hips and midriff with displaced flesh. Mesmerized by our analogies, Tricarico suggested we contact Robert K. Niddrie, vice-president of merchandising at Playtex’s technical research and development group. We soon discovered that we had a lot to learn about girdles.
First of all, “girdles” may be the technical name for these undergarments, but the trade prefers the term “shapewear.” Why? Because girdles conjure up an old-fashioned image of undergarments that were confining and uncomfortable. Old girdles had no give in them, so, like too-tight belts, they used to send flesh creeping out from under the elastic bands (usually under the bottom or above the waist).
The purpose of modern shapewear isn’t so much to press in the flesh as to distribute it evenly and change the contour of the body. And girdles come in so many variations now. If women have a problem with fat bulging under the legs of the girdle, they can buy a long-leg girdle. If fat is sneaking out the midriff, a high-waist girdle will solve the problem.
Niddrie explains that the flesh is so loose that it can be redistributed without discomfort. Shapewear is made of softer and more giving fabrics. The modern girdle acts more like a back brace or an athletic supporter—providing support can actually feel good.
“Full-figured” women are aware of so-called minimizer bras that work by redistributing tissue over a wider circumference. When the flesh is spread out over a wider surface area, it actually appears to be smaller in bulk. Modern girdles work the same way. You can demonstrate the principle yourself. Instead of poking a fatty part of your body with your finger, press it in gently with your whole hand—there should be much less displacement of flesh.
Niddrie credits DuPont’s Lycra with helping to make girdles acceptable to younger women today. So we talked to Susan Habacivch, a marketing specialist at DuPont, who, unremarkably, agreed that adding 15 to 30 percent Lycra to traditional materials has helped make girdle
s much more comfortable. The “miracle” of Lycra is that it conforms to the body shape of the wearer, enabling foundation garments to even and smooth out flesh without compressing it. The result: no lumps or bumps. Girdles with Lycra don’t eliminate the fat but they “share the wealth” with adjoining areas.
Submitted by Cynthia Crossen of Brooklyn, New York.
What Do Mosquitoes Do During the Day? And Where Do They Go?
At any hour of the day, somewhere in the world, a mosquito is biting someone. There are so many different species of mosquitoes, and so much variation in the habits among different species, it is hard to generalize. Some mosquitoes, particularly those that live in forests, are diurnal. But most of the mosquitoes in North America are active at night, and classified as either nocturnal or crepuscular (tending to be active at the twilight hours of the morning and/or evening).
Do Penguins Have Knees? Page 7
