Uh-oh. Somebody better tell XeroX about a little country called Kyrgyzstan (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kyrgyzstan). Nice flag, huh? Same thing happened to NBC 30 years ago, when they "unknowingly" ripped off the logo from Nebraska public TV. Ooops (http://www.mentalfloss.com/archives/archive2004-04-20.htm)
While my dad was helping with my 6th grade science homework, he mentioned that in high school he was president of the chemistry club, an amazing revelation considering he seemed least likely to belong to any club, let alone be it president, and his interest in chemistry then or since apparently was a closely guarded secret.
One weekend not long after, he called me down to the basement and asked if I wanted to do some chemistry experiements. We were, he informed me, going to make Hydrogen. To a flask he added a strong solution of hydrogen peroxide and a dollop of iron filings; he covered the flask with a balloon, and while it inflated he recited his favorite chemistry-related knee slapper, a rhyme with an important lesson: "Johnny was a scientist, but Johnny is no more; what he thought was H2O was H2SO4." You see, sulfuric acid... never mind.
As the balloon inflated, he pointed out the violent reaction between the two substances. The iron was bonding with the oxygen atoms in the peroxide to form iron oxide, allowing the pure hydrogen to escape. He lectured me about the properties of hydrogen: colorless, odorless, lighter than air and highly flammable. He removed the fully inflated baloon, clipped it off and let it hover unassisted, then proceeded to demonstrate the other properties, perhaps too quickly in sequence. He let some escape to show it had no color or odor, and then pulled out his trusty Zippo lighter to produce a flame.
Of course, the hydrogen was way ahead of him, and with a WHOOOMP I can still hear 40 years later, a flash of light and heat engulfed us and disappeared in a millisecond. The sound of our surprised shreiks and the scent of singed ceiling tiles rose to the first floor, eliciting only mild interest. "Nothing" is what we both replied when asked what we were doing, bringing on the realization that I hadn't invented the answer to questions that could get me in trouble.
Dad and I both wore the same surprised expression for a couple of weeks, and spoke no more of the experiment, not even to acknowlege whether it was, in the end, a success or a failure. But around our house, we had an expression: "Scientists don't need eyebrows."
One weekend not long after, he called me down to the basement and asked if I wanted to do some chemistry experiements. We were, he informed me, going to make Hydrogen. To a flask he added a strong solution of hydrogen peroxide and a dollop of iron filings; he covered the flask with a balloon, and while it inflated he recited his favorite chemistry-related knee slapper, a rhyme with an important lesson: "Johnny was a scientist, but Johnny is no more; what he thought was H2O was H2SO4." You see, sulfuric acid... never mind.
As the balloon inflated, he pointed out the violent reaction between the two substances. The iron was bonding with the oxygen atoms in the peroxide to form iron oxide, allowing the pure hydrogen to escape. He lectured me about the properties of hydrogen: colorless, odorless, lighter than air and highly flammable. He removed the fully inflated baloon, clipped it off and let it hover unassisted, then proceeded to demonstrate the other properties, perhaps too quickly in sequence. He let some escape to show it had no color or odor, and then pulled out his trusty Zippo lighter to produce a flame.
Of course, the hydrogen was way ahead of him, and with a WHOOOMP I can still hear 40 years later, a flash of light and heat engulfed us and disappeared in a millisecond. The sound of our surprised shreiks and the scent of singed ceiling tiles rose to the first floor, eliciting only mild interest. "Nothing" is what we both replied when asked what we were doing, bringing on the realization that I hadn't invented the answer to questions that could get me in trouble.
Dad and I both wore the same surprised expression for a couple of weeks, and spoke no more of the experiment, not even to acknowlege whether it was, in the end, a success or a failure. But around our house, we had an expression: "Scientists don't need eyebrows."