Do Elephants Jump?

by David Feldman

  On a hand stapler you have a silver metal anvil on the [top of the] base of the stapler. This anvil is where the staple legs are formed either in an upward or outward (pinning) fashion. If your staples are forming outward, this means that the anvil has been turned. To resolve, push the button under your anvil upward. This will raise the anvil, now rotate the anvil. This will change the position of the forming slots.

  Staplers were invented in the late nineteenth century, but were too expensive and labor intensive (early staplers could hold a grand total of one staple) to be widely available. Before the proliferation of staples in the early twentieth century, papers were fastened together by pins, the origin of the pinning term for outwardly oriented staples. Because pins were not clinched, it was relatively easy to remove them without damaging the documents they were fastening. And that’s still the primary advantage of the pinning feature today — Lori Andrade, at Stanley Bostitch, said that dry cleaners are fond of pinned staples for their short-term stapling jobs, precisely because it is easier for customers to detach the staples from boxes or bags. Pinning isn’t as reliable a fastener as the clinched staple, but it does make it easier to add new documents to already gathered papers.

  Why have you likely never used the pinning orientation for your stapler? In our experience, the minuses outweigh the pluses for any job. Not only do pinned staples not fasten well, but the “legs” of the staple stick out, and can catch on other objects, such as your hands! If you are worried about maiming documents with the standard staple, consider some other obscure alternatives — such as paper clips or a folder.

  Submitted by Jonathan Steigman of Rockville, Maryland. Thanks also to “Lollis,” via the Internet; Atul Kapur, of Chatham, Ontario; Jen Braginsky, of Ottumwa, Iowa; and Eldad Ganin, via the Internet.

  Why Was Charles Schulz’s Comic Strip Called Peanuts?

  Before there was Peanuts, there was Li’l Folks, Charles Schulz’s cartoon produced for his hometown newspaper, the St. Paul Pioneer Press, starting in 1947. Fortunes are not made from selling cartoons to one newspaper, however. So Schulz pitched Li’l Folks to the United Features Syndicate, who was interested in the work, but not the name of Schulz’s strip.

  UFS perceived two possible problems. Schulz’s existing title evoked the name of a defunct strip called Little Folks created by cartoonist Tack Knight. And there was a comic strip that was already a rousing success that United Features already distributed — Li’l Abner.

  Who decided on the name Peanuts? The credit usually goes to Bill Anderson, a production manager at United Features Syndicate, who submitted Peanuts along with a list of nine other alternatives to the UFS brass. The appeal of Peanuts was obvious, since as Nat Gertler, author and webmaster of a startlingly detailed guide to Peanuts book collecting (http://AAUGH.com/guide/) notes:

  The name Peanuts invoked the “peanut gallery” — the in-house audience for the then-popular Howdy Doody television show.

  Charles Schulz not only didn’t like the name change, but also objected to it throughout his career. Melissa McGann, archivist at the Charles Schulz Museum and Research Center in Santa Rosa, California, wrote to Imponderables:

  Schulz always disliked the name, and for the first several years of the strip’s run he continually asked UFS to change the name — one of his suggestions was even “Good Ol’ Charlie Brown.” Up until his death, Schulz maintained that he didn’t like the name Peanuts and wished it was something else.

  In his essay on the Peanuts creator, cartoonist R. C. Harvey quotes Schulz to show how much the usually soft-spoken man resented the Peanuts title:

  “I don’t even like the word,” he said. “It’s not a nice word. It’s totally ridiculous, has no meaning, is simply confusing, and has no dignity. And I think my humor has dignity. It would have class. They [UFS] didn’t know when I walked in here that here was a fanatic. Here was a kid totally dedicated to what he was going to do. And then to label something that was going to be a life’s work with a name like Peanuts was really insulting.”

  Gertler points out that when Schulz first objected to the name change, UFS held the trump cards: “By the time the strip was popular enough for Schulz to have the leverage, the name was too well established.” But in the media in which he had control over the name, Schulz avoided using Peanuts alone, as Gertler explains:

  At some point during the 1960s, the opening panel of the Sunday strips (when run in their full format) started saying Peanuts, featuring Good Ol’ Charlie Brown rather than just Peanuts as they had earlier. Meanwhile the TV specials rarely had Peanuts in their title; instead, it was “A Charlie Brown Christmas,” “It’s the Easter Beagle, Charlie Brown,” and similar names.

  In fact, we’re not aware of a single animated special that even contains the name Peanuts — the majority of titles feature Charlie Brown, and a significant minority Charlie’s untrusty companion, Snoopy.

  So we are left with the irony that the iron man of comic strips, the giant who created the most popular strip in the history of comics, who made more money from cartooning than anyone, detested the title of his own creation. Schulz probably appreciated not only the royalties from foreign countries, but the knowledge that especially in places where peanuts are not an important part of the diet or had no association with children, his strip was called something else: Rabanitos (“little radishes”) in South America, Klein Grut (“small fry”) in the Netherlands, and the unforgettable Snobben (“snooty”), Sweden’s rechristening of Snoopy.

  Submitted by Mark Meluch of Maple Heights, Ohio.

  What Happens to Sandbags After Flooding Is Over?

  Most folks feel about sandbags a little similarly to how most teenagers feel about their parents: They’re great to have in an emergency, but once they’ve provided their service, get them outta here! When flooding is feared, sandbags seem to appear from nowhere and disappear when the danger has passed.

  We contacted the Wisconsin Department of Natural Resources and found a genial soul, Gary Heinrichs, of the Bureau of Water Regulation and Zoning, who informed us

  We get a lot of letters at the Wisconsin Department of Natural Resources, but I am happy to tell you yours is the first entry in the category of Sandbag Trivia.

  He was happy to share with us that in most cases, a local emergency government office, a state natural resource or environmental quality agency, or the National Guard stockpiles sandbags. Although burlap bags are still in use, plastic bags have overtaken them in popularity, as they are both cheaper and more likely to be reusable, as burlap is prone to rotting when saturated with water.

  In most cases, these governmental agencies will provide individuals and communities with sandbags full of clean, washed sand for no charge. Sometimes, however, the recipients of this largesse must fill and place the sandbags themselves; even with volunteer help, the cost of labor is by far the largest expense in most sandbagging programs. When done manually, it takes two people about an hour to fill and place 100 sandbags, which will provide merely a one-foot-high pile, twenty feet long.

  When the emergency subsides, the town might be full of wet sandbags that are no longer needed. All of a sudden these lifesavers now seem as attractive as dirty ashtrays after a party — but much harder to clean and remove. For example, in April 1997, the Red River Valley of North Dakota, which includes Fargo and Grand Forks, suffered its worst flood in the twentieth century, and it took four contracting companies eight weeks to remove sandbags from Fargo.

  But time and cost aren’t the only problem with pickup — environmental hazards exist, too, that dictate what happens to the sandbags (and the sand) used in emergencies. As Gary Heinrichs explains:

  After the floodwaters subside, sandbags along levees and other water-control structures are usually left in place. The plastic bags will eventually decompose and the sand adds height and bulk to the levee for future flood control. Besides, while it is easy to get volunteers to fill and pile bags when the water is rising, it is very difficult to find people
to empty and dispose of the mucky bags after the waters have receded.

  Sandbags in populated areas and around sensitive structures like wastewater treatment plants must be removed due to health and safety dangers caused by the bags. Remember, everything that floats down the river — gas, oil, sewage, chemicals — soaks into the bags. The sand may be reused, but the bags must be properly disposed of.

  Wet bags tend to attract vermin and mildew, but dry bags can be reused.

  Because of the labor costs and environmental risks associated with sandbags, products have been developed to replace them. Several companies sell reusable, inflatable plastic grids or walls that can be filled from the top with sand by non-proprietary earthmoving equipment. Geocell Systems, Inc., a San Francisco–based manufacturer of the Rapid Deployment Flood Wall, claims that six laborers and one loader can build a wall 100 feet long, 4 feet wide, and 4 feet high in an hour, with only 20 percent loss of sand for the next use. While the cost of these plastic devices is far higher than a bunch of plastic or burlap sacks, they tend to be much cheaper over time — meaning that this is not only the first sandbag trivia that Heinrichs has answered, but might be one of his last.

  Submitted by Sandra Koteski of Elk Grove Village, Illinois.

  Why Do Rinks Use Hot Water to Resurface the Ice?

  Here’s the problem. Skaters, even elegant flyweights like Michelle Kwan, leave gouges that get dirty and lead to uneven residue on the ice. The more skaters there are on the ice, the more defects appear.

  Our hero, of course, is Frank Zamboni, an Italian immigrant, who invented the Zamboni Ice Resurfacer to solve a problem of his own. He owned a rink, the Icehouse in Paramount, California, and realized how much time and labor was wasted with his maintenance men manually hosing and sweeping the ice — a process that took three to five men an average of an hour and a half. During hockey games, six to eight employees were required to scrape the ice between periods.

  In 1942, the uneducated but highly skilled at mechanics Zamboni took a Jeep and fashioned a riding resurfacer that could automate the process. After seven years of experimentation, he crafted an early version of the Zamboni Ice Resurfacer and used it at his rink. In 1950, the most famous ice skater in the world, Sonja Henie, who won gold medals at the 1928, 1932, and 1936 Olympics, saw Zamboni’s machine and wanted one for her tour. Zamboni hand-built it and Henie showed it off on her tour — rink managers clamored for the labor-saving device, and Zamboni found himself with a new business.

  The genius of the Zamboni resurfacer is that the entire operation is handled with one pass over the ice, even though four separate operations are performed:

  1. A planar blade scrapes off a layer of the existing ice.

  2. Scraped ice that is left on the surface is collected and put into a holding tank, about 100 cubic feet, which is the bulk of the machine.

  3. Water is fed from a wash-water tank over the newly cut ice. A squeegee-like conditioner then smoothes this water over the ice and a vacuum reclaims the water back into the tank. This does not create a new surface, but conditions the newly cut ice.

  4. Clean water is then spread over the conditioned ice by a “trowel,” a clean board that contains a pipe bringing in the new water, and that spreads the new water in a thin, flat film. The “new” water is held in a tank with a capacity of about 200 gallons, although about 70 to 120 gallons are used in a typical resurfacing.

  The poser of this Imponderable wonders why this “clean water” spread to form the topmost sheet of ice needs to be hot. Wouldn’t hot water just melt some of the ice on the surface and slow down the freezing process?

  The conventional wisdom is that, compared to room temperature water, hot water creates a better bond with the existing ice. It does melt the existing ice a little more, but it fills in the cracks better. When it freezes, hot water creates a smoother temperature gradient from the top of the old ice to the top of the new surface — it “integrates” better and forms a smooth top-sheet of ice.

  We spoke to Raoul Lopez, the maintenance chief at the Culver City Ice Arena in Culver City, California. His ice arena uses an Olympia resurfacer, one of Zamboni’s main rivals. Lopez showed us a manual from Olympia that addresses this issue:

  For the best resurfacing results, your water supply should be 85 to 95 degrees Centigrade (180 to 200 degrees F). Hot water flows into cracks in the ice surface before cooling and freezing, and by slightly melting the ice surface before freezing, the best possible bond is formed with the existing ice. Hot water holds less oxygen than cold water and therefore produces a denser, harder ice. The hard ice does not get damaged as easily and therefore does not require the resurfacing as often or as deeply, resulting in minimal ice buildup. This means less time spent on ice maintenance and saves wear and tear on ice-resurfacing equipment.

  We spoke to a few physicists, who confirmed that hot water would have slight advantages in resurfacing ice, but they wondered whether the small gain would really be worth the cost in heating? If scientists fielding a theoretical question wonder about costs, you can rest assured that the thought has crossed the mind of rink owners. In active rinks, resurfacing is performed every hour or two, so the cost of heating 100 gallons of hot water an hour is not inconsiderable.

  And guess what? None other than Richard Zamboni, now president of his father’s firm, says about his ice rink:

  We don’t use hot water and we never have. Cold water works fine for us, and we never have to worry about the cost of heating it. We don’t recommend hot water. When [other] customers have a problem with ice resurfacing, usually sharpening the blade fixes the problem. Occasionally, we recommend trying hot water when other solutions fail.

  Despite the Olympia maintenance manual, the experienced chief of maintenance, Raoul Lopez, agrees with Zamboni. His rink doesn’t use hot water except for special occasions. Although he thinks that hot water smoothes the ice out better than room temperature, hot water is just too expensive to justify the small advantages. But we contacted several NHL clubs and high-level figure-skating officials, and they confirmed that hot water rules the day in their domains.

  Submitted by Michael Rzechula of Elizabethtown, Illinois.

  How Did Fire Helmets Get Their Distinctive Shape?

  Compared to the stories about the origins of most clothing and uniforms, the history of the fire helmet in the United States is surprisingly well documented. And even more unusual, the design of the first mass-produced fire helmet has changed remarkably little since H. T. Gratacap, a maker of fine leather luggage, invented the headgear in 1836. Gratacap, a volunteer firefighter, realized the need for more protective equipment. He named his helmet the “New Yorker,” and with some modifications, it is still produced today by CairnsHelmets.

  Three of the features that distinguish and define a fire helmet from other protective headgear were featured almost from the start: the badge mounted in the front of the helmet; the wide ribs that run from the top of the helmet to the brim; and wide brims, particularly the unusually long brim in the back. The Cairns brothers owned a business that manufactured badges, buttons, and insignias, and suggested mounting an identification badge to the front of the Gratacap helmet. When Gratacap retired, the Cairnses took over the helmet business, and the company, now owned by Mine Safety Appliances (MSA), is still a leading manufacturer of fire helmets.

  Let’s take a look at the reasons for these three design elements, and how they function today:

  1. The Front. “The front” refers not only to the obverse of a fire helmet, but also to the badges affixed thereon. As paramilitary organizations that often worked in sites with little visibility, fire departments needed a way to identify both a firefighter’s unit and his rank during emergencies — the front became the means to achieve these goals. According to Dennis Stout, product manager for fire head protection and safety at E. D. Bullard Company, a firehouse’s hierarchy was expressed through the front of the helmet. Chiefs’ hats would have more of a stovetop design, with much mor
e ornamentation than the “rank and file.” The front badges also had to do with competition between different firehouses, which was not unlike the rivalry between cross-town sports enemies. As Stout explains:

  In the big urban areas, they would fight to beat each other to a fire. In the New England area, for example, there was a very heavy concentration of Scottish and Irish people in the fire service. They were barroom brawlers, and very prideful in their work. They literally would race to a fire scene. Often fights would break out over territory at the actual fires. They would fight over whose company was in control of that fire. The fronts called out the company name and station numbers.

  Although competition among firefighters may not be extinct, the fronts are of use for more prosaic reasons today. Denis Ryan, product-line manager for fire helmets at Mine Safety Appliances (the company that bought Cairns in 2000), told Imponderables that fronts are still used to identify personnel, especially at big fires, where many different units are participating. Ryan notes that by wearing easily identifiable fronts, personnel can be held accountable for problems. Some fronts have Velcro pieces that can be removed, and placed on a board so that officers can keep track of exactly who is inside a building at any given time. And fronts can still let everyone know who is in charge:

  You can customize the front in a million ways. A regular firefighter will have a smaller front, usually six inches tall. If you’re the fire chief, you’ll have one that’s a little bigger — maybe eight inches, and a little more elaborate.