by Ed Nelson
“Rick, that was included in your golf fees for the year. We assumed you would play in the Sectional and charged you for it, after that if you move to District and State the school will pick it up.”
“I never paid any golf fees.”
“Oh, that’s right, Phil Thompson had, he moved and the fees are non-refundable. I’ve the money in my budget for the event so I never thought about billing you. Just consider yourself lucky this year.”
“Thanks, Coach Stone.”
After practice, I had the bus drop me off downtown on the way back to school. I stopped at Bailey’s Hair Solon. This is where Mum had her hair done, and she had called Mrs. Bailey that morning so she was expecting me.
The hair dryers she had were the sort that were on a pedestal. Ladies would sit under the dryer for thirty to sixty minutes depending on the amount of hair they had. I tried to read the metal plate on one to find out how many watts it was and the rpm of the motor. There was nothing helpful. She asked me if the suppliers catalog from Sunbeam might help. It at least referred to 300 watts but gave no idea of the motor speed.
I asked if I could look at the hairdryer a little closer. Mrs. Bailey allowed me to remove the cover. This was held in place by snap on clips. Apparently it had to be cleaned out frequently because of all the hair clippings.
I was able to get the Ametek motor model number from its serial plate. After replacing the cover and thanking Mrs. Bailey, she asked why I wanted all this information. I told her I was trying to figure out how to make a handheld unit.
“If you do I would love to buy one,” she replied.
“Me to,” replied a lady who had just got out from under another dryer. She continued, “Then I could do this at home.”
I quickly replied, “True but then you wouldn’t benefit from Mrs. Baileys expert hair styling.”
“Nice save Rick,” came dryly from Mrs. Bailey.
I got out of there as quick as I could. I had been thinking, what if all beauty shops bought the dryers, now, what if all women bought a dryer?”
In my new found enthusiasm I walked around the corner to Bush Electric. They were not busy, so the counterman spent some time with me. I first asked if he could look up the rpm speed of an Ametek motor. With the model number, the counterman was able to look it up and tell me the flow rate which was less than half of the industrial dryer.
“What are you trying to do,” asked the counterman?
I explained that I was hunting for a motor that would deliver about this output of air, but weighed six ounces or less.
The counterman, ‘Tom,’ started to laugh at this request, but then stopped and reached for another catalog.
“There is a new series of motors put out by Philips a Dutch company; it has a different sort of magnet, ceramic I think. They are very small and light weight. They are a whole heck’va lot more efficient than regular motors.
This Ametek motor puts out 300 watts of energy; the Phillips provides 1500 watts. That is all you can get from a normal house outlet. We haven’t sold any, but they may be what you are looking for.”
They were able to identify a motor that fulfilled the requirement very quickly. I placed an order; I also ordered a volt meter, and a small variac transformer. This came to twenty two dollars and fifty five cents.
I would be able to use the variac to change the speed of the motor which would change the air output. I then could experiment with the best air flow.
The volt meter would be used to measure the resistance of the heating element. Again I could vary the heat using the variac transformer to change the voltage. Earning the Boy Scout electricity merit badge sure was coming in handy.
As an afterthought I started to order a spool of copper wire.
“What are you going to use it for?” inquired Tom.
“I thought I could make a heating element.”
“You would be better off with a nichrome wire; it is a combination of nickel and chromium. It has higher resistance than copper, so gives off more heat. Plus nichrome won’t corrode.”
“I will try that”
“It is kind of expensive, twelve cents a foot.”
“That’s okay I only need ten feet at the most.”
“I can give it to you now, or you can pick it up when the other stuff is in.”
“Later is fine, and thanks for your help Tom,” I replied.
“We will call you when it is in.”
“Thanks,” I replied as I was going out the door.
When I got home I wrote all the information I had gathered and the date in a hardback blank book, which I had bought at Guys Newsstand. Somewhere I had read that inventors needed to keep notebooks to prove they had done the work.
At dinner I updated my parents on golf, school and the hairdryer project. Both Mum and Dad had concerns about the safety of the device so they talked about things that might go wrong.
Some of them included overheating to the point of starting a fire, or getting the outside so hot it burned someone. I would have to include some sort of heat shield around the heating element and fusing to break the circuit to prevent extreme overheating.
After dinner and helping with the dishes I updated the notebook with the safety concerns.
Later that night I started a new story about a woman who was forced to wear a letter on her grey woolen dress, she embroidered it turning a mark of shame into one of pride. I wondered if she was an Ohio State fan.
Today, October 1st, was a glorious fall day as I ran. I was up to five miles a day now, and intended to keep it like that as long as the weather held. There had been a heavy frost so the leaves had turned. There was the smell of smoke in the air from previous leaf burning.
I saw that Buckeyes had fallen from the tree in the Masons front yard. Because they were a nuisance to rake they didn’t care if people picked them up. As soon as I finished my run I rode my bike back to the Masons and collected a bagful of buckeyes. They would be used to make Christmas decorations.
Chapter 32
Most of my classes started the review for the exams held at the end of the six week grading period. They would review this week and until Wednesday of the following, taking the exams Thursday or Friday. I would review, but I could’ve taken and passed the exams that day.
This gave me time to work on a long overdue project. During study hall after a quick review to ensure there was nothing I had overlooked I wrote thank you notes. It had been drilled into me by my Mum that people who did you a kindness deserved a Thank You.
I owed notes from my summer hitchhiking. I also included the George Weaver story on my summer and family. There certainly were enough extra copies provided by family and friends.
I wrote a note to the Whaley’s, the farm family that let me work for a few days in Illinois. They knew the least of all about my adventures and certainly would be surprised.
When I wrote Mr. Easterly in Colorado I also informed him that I had received the rodeo schedule for the next year. I had decided I wasn’t going to follow the circuit or try to defend the championship. Time and money were the reasons. I was thinking of other things to do next summer and didn’t think I could win enough to pay for the whole rodeo venture anyway.
I also wrote John Wayne a longer note thanking him for all of his help in my “movie career”, Elvis with a little teasing, how Germany was a long way to bail him out, so behave, Brian Wilson for his making me a “Rock and Roll Star”, Paul Anka for reminding me not to quit my day job to be a Rock and Roll Star.
Special thanks went to Texas Ranger Walker for saving me from a potentially bad situation I had got myself into, and the Ewing family who let me stay at their ranch South Fork during the national rodeo.
I also sent a general letter to the producer, asking him to share with the cast, of the Spin and Marty portion of the Mickey Mouse Club, thanking all of them for letting me participate. I still had secret hopes about Annette, just like every other teenage boy in America.
After some consider
ation I also wrote a brief letter to the National Rodeo Association telling them I wouldn’t be defending my title this year. While I was proud to win and had a lot of fun doing it, the joy of winning should go to those who had worked out of love of the sport for years.
I didn’t write it but thought that anyone who rode Brahma bulls for years had something fundamentally wrong with them.
After reading what I had written I was glad I was wearing boots, it was getting deep. It was also true. It took both my study halls to get the notes completed, but I was glad to be done. All I had to do now was address envelopes and mail them.
At golf practice, I found that Coach had a point about different distances. I tried to over compensate using the shorter irons, in doing so found that you could only swing the golf club so hard and fast and maintain control. Besides the demons of the sand trap, I met the monsters of the rough.
Once I realized my error I went back to my easy swing and my game came right back.
Coach Stone just said, “That wasn’t the lesson I had intended but it was a good one.”
Denny, Eddie and I again played horse with the basketball before dinner. Again they creamed me. Denny won this time but Eddie wasn’t far behind. While the game was going on little Mary was playing with the Hula Hoop. Dad was sitting on the steps watching all of the activity.
After I had horse, while Denny and Eddie were at hor I sat with Dad. Mary had taken to throwing the Hula Hoop across the yard.
Dad told me, “We played with iron wagon wheel hoops when I was a kid, we could roll them down the road but they weighed too much to throw like that. These new types of plastics are good stuff. Many items will be lighter in the future.”
Dad and I looked at each other and said in unison, “Hairdryers.” I immediately ran to the workbench where my notebook resided and made an entry.
Just as we sat down for dinner the phone rang; whoever it was talked to Dad for a while.
At dinner Dad related, “That was George Weaver, he wanted us to know his story on Rick’s vacation and our family has been picked up for syndication.
“What’s syndication, “inquired Denny?
“Other papers have bought the right to publish the story in their Sunday supplements.”
“What other papers,” asked Eddie?
“He didn’t know all of them but it includes the New York Times and the Daily Mail in England.”
“Wow, we are going to be famous,” crowed Eddie.
“Will the real Queen read it,” asked Mary?
“I doubt that Mary,” replied Mum.
“Oh, she should.”
This conversation helped us through the dinner of navy beans and dumplings. This was a favorite of Dads, but we kids detested it. This was about the only thing in the world we all agreed upon.
We were required to sit at the table until we cleaned our plate. A tradition was starting; our parents would have to leave the room for a minute.
We boys would divide up Mary’s portion between us. Later since she had cleaned her plate no fuss would be made when she ate cookies. This attitude about Mary held true outside the home. You can pick on me, touch Mary and you will get it from all of us.
I managed to finish the Russian novel. I decided I would never read another book in my life where every time you started to like a character the author would kill them off. Killing one or two okay, but almost everyone?
The last school day of the week was just another day with one exception. Before the bell rang to start Algebra, Sue Barton asked me what I thought of Pam Schaffer.
“She seems nice and is certainly good looking. This is the first school we have been at together so I really don’t know her.”
“She thinks you’re handsome and would like to get to know you better.”
I was too young to be overly cynical but thoughts of, “Or is it dinner at the country club and a limo?” did fleetingly go through my mind. Fortunately a teenage ego saved me from such thoughts.
“I will have to talk to her one of these days.”
“She goes down to Don’s every Friday after school.”
“That’s a shame, I have golf practice today or I would be there. I would like to get to know her.”
Sue giggled, “I’m sure you will.”
Golf practice that night was interesting. Coach had a large map of the Northmoor Golf Course; home course of the Celina Bulldogs. After the usual jokes of, “we will chain the Bulldogs,” and other remarks Coach went over the course with us.
“This course is actually the toughest you will play in regular season. As usual we will be teeing off from the black tee boxes. Northmoor is a twenty seven hole course. We will be playing the Blue/Red courses.
It plays 6917 yards for a Par 71. This is an old mature course built in 1923. The fairways are bluegrass and the greens bent grass, so nothing new there”.
From there he went into detail of shot placement for every hole.
Coach continued, “Of particular note is the 16th hole on the Red course. It’s the longest hole on the course at 613 yards. It plays straight away but will be a challenge for even Rick’s long ball. Don’t push it, be happy to get in on three and take a par. This hole has ruined more rounds than any other.”
After practice I asked to be dropped off at Don’s Hamburger shop, but most of the kids had left. Pam was nowhere in sight so I had a long walk home for nothing.
Chapter 33
After dinner that night I started taking the industrial hairdryer apart. I was interested in how it was wired. In my notebook I drew a schematic of the electrical wiring. I also noted the model numbers of the fan, motor and switches.
The switching was the most interesting. It looked like it would be right at home inside an old vacuum tube radio I owned.
I wondered if the on-off, fan speed and heat controls I was thinking of could be transistorized.
I would like to have a high and low speed fan, and the same for heat. That would give four combinations for the user.
I remembered the movie set makeup artists who dealt with many hairstyles needing options. They called themselves artist and at first I laughed, after seeing what they had to achieve I quit laughing.
For the on-off, the current would run through a basic dipole switch which is either on or off. From there current would have to be directed through a transistor which would send it to one of two resistors, this would then regulate the current sent to the nichrome wire which would control the heat generated. There would be a similar arrangement to the fan controlling the speed.
I knew I probably didn’t have the circuit completely correct but I knew someone who could help me. My electricity merit badge councilor Mr. Robinson would be the man. Mr. Robinson was an avid HAM radio operator and built stuff all the time.
I had a HAM license but he was far ahead of me in the actual building of electronics. He was my Elmer when I first started.
Later I went in for some lighter reading. That Russian novel or whatever the author wanted to call it; had just about done me in. I went back to one of my old favorites from my bookshelf. The two brothers doing detective work was exactly my speed tonight.
Saturday we met at the school at seven o’clock for the one hour bus trip to the Northmoor Golf Club near Grand Lake St. Mary’s. I had to remember to tell Mary she had a lake named after her, she would like that. I hoped we weren’t spoiling her.
The match was never in doubt. Gary Matthews was the only member of the team who lost to his Celina competitor and that was only by one stroke. I tore the course up.
When I got to the dreaded six hundred and thirteen yard 16th hole of the Red Course I hit a drive which rolled and rolled on the flat hard fairway. It ended up being a three hundred and five yard drive, my best ever.
Then my second shot with a three wood was over two hundred yards ending up two feet from the hole. It was an easy putt for my first ever Eagle.
By this time our team lead was so great that the Celina boys were even excited
for me. After the match while having a soft drink at the refreshment area named the nineteenth hole, the club pro told me that only happened once or twice a season. I ended up with a 67 which was four under par for the course.
Dad had good news at dinner that night. We had rented out the North Detroit Street house for seventy five dollars a month. With this start he now intended to start looking for duplexes in town that he could buy, repair and rent out.
I wondered if they could buy, repair and sell them quickly making a good turn around profit. I brought this up to Dad, who after thinking about it for a moment turned the idea down. He would rather work towards long term income.
I continued reading old favorites, this time with a young inventor and his flying machine. I had chosen the original stories, they had been redone with the son of the inventor but I liked the original better.
Reading the story reminded me of my decision to learn to fly one day. I needed to check into that. I would go out to Tanger Field and see what lessons cost when golf season was over.
Sunday was a lazy day at the Jackson household. My Dad drove down to Jackson’s Newsstand and bought a Columbus Dispatch. The newsstand owner was no relation. The George Weaver piece wasn’t in the paper which disappointed Mum and Dad, but not me. I was glad for a rest from the recent notoriety.
Later Tom and I walked downtown to Isley’s Restaurant. It was a combination cafeteria and ice cream parlor. It was a Sunday destination for the high school crowd. There were none of the kids we ran around with there, so we bought a cone and walked to the Holland Theater. Nothing was playing that interested us, but I got excited to see that, “It Never Happened,” the movie I was in with John Wayne and Elvis would be showing next week.
We walked on home taking the long way through Mary Rutan Park. We both agreed that life in Bellefontaine could be boring. That boredom lasted until we ran into Sue Barton and the dark haired, full figured Pam Schaffer walking back to the “Heights” as our neighborhood was called.
Pam walked with me and Sue with Tom. We talked about nothing and everything. Pam got very animated when she talked about the Drama Club. They were getting ready to start cast selection for the spring play they would be putting on in early May.
