Why are dynamite, gunpowder and the atomic bomb so explosive?

Dynamite was invented by the Swedish chemist Alfred Nobel and patented in 1867. He worked with a particularly unstable chemical molecule called nitroglycerine, which just wants to break apart and release the energy that’s holding it together. It doesn’t like to be nitroglycerine and is just looking for a reason to break up, throw a tantrum and be something else. Alfred said to himself, “Okay, you want to change, what if I pack you very carefully in a tight container, give you a big remote smack on your unstable back, what will happen next?” BOOM! Dynamite was born. Mr. Nobel made a fortune, realized blowing up things was not always such a good thing and used his money to establish the Nobel Prizes to fund other more productive pursuits, like peace.

Loud explosions tend to change the direction of people.

Gunpowder has done that for thousands of years. I think the Chinese first invented gunpowder. The official court chemist was in the back room playing with some everyday powders. He said to himself, “What if I mix one part this, with two parts here, throw in some of that over there and then strike two stones together to make a spark?” KA-BANG! Gunpowder was born from the interaction of stable everyday chemicals becoming unstable in close proximity to each other, something sparking a fight and the whole crowd releasing their angry energy on an unsuspecting world.

We’re only a few molecules away from something happening, and it’s not always good.

As a kid, I was a chemist and a young scientist. From my home-built lab in the basement, I would launch little rockets into the ceiling. “Whatever you’re doing down there,” Mom would yell from the kitchen, “Stop it.” We and the other scientists moved across the street. “What was that explosion?” my friend’s Mom yelled from the kitchen, “And why is all that smoke in the garage.” We grabbed our sleds and launched ourselves down the snow-packed street, wondering if maybe we should just keep going.

Most times, loud noise and smoke are not a good idea, not just for kids, sadly.

An atomic bomb starts with atoms not molecules. That’s the difference between an atomic bomb and gunpowder or dynamite. The beginnings of all these explosive incendiaries are the bonds of energy that are inside a molecule or atom, holding them together. A molecule is two or more atoms bonded together. For example, water is the H2O molecule, two hydrogen atoms and one oxygen atom; the 2H and 1O atoms are held together by bonds that require energy; break the bonds and you release the energy. That’s how gunpowder and nitroglycerine work. An atomic bomb looks to the bonds of energy inside an atom, holding it together. For example, that H or hydrogen atom is composed of one electron revolving around a proton – think of the moon revolving around the earth. However, this is in the very small internal area of an atom. In there, with that one little proton and one little electron, it takes a great amount of energy to keep their world spinning. Knock that electron and proton apart, and you release a whole bunch of energy. That’s how an atomic bomb starts.

Little does not always mean less, especially when we are talking about the pent-up energy of molecular and atomic bonds.

The word “bomb” could derive from the word “bond,” or more likely from the word “boom.” A bomb is a boom of broken bonds.

Bombs are devices that release the energy in molecular and atomic bonds in a setting that accelerates and magnifies the force of the reaction for the purpose of hurting others and their belongings.

The release of energy can and should be a good thing. Burning a log on a fire is the release of the molecular energy in the wood. A controlled fire in the heater, stove or fireplace is a very good thing. It warms us in cool weather, heats our food and comforts us with its bright flames. Uncontrolled, a fire is a very bad thing. A forest fire can destroy homes, crops and people. A bomb is an uncontrolled forest fire. And, the sad thing about a bomb is that the fire was started intentionally to cause damage.

Over two thousand atomic bombs have been detonated for testing. Only two atomic bombs have ever been used against people. Near the end of World War II, the Japanese cities of Hiroshima and Nagasaki were destroyed by atomic bombs. The blast that devastated Hiroshima is calculated to have been equivalent to 60 million sticks of dynamite.

We know why dynamite, gunpowder and the atomic bomb are explosive. We also know how to control the release of molecular and atomic energy to build a better life for all on our planet. Dynamite, gunpowder and the atomic bomb can destroy that life. My hope is that we can control how we release the energy in molecular and atomic bonds by making the right choices for the future of our world.

May wisdom guide our steps,

Grandpa Jim

When was the first pickup truck?

The pickup truck is part of the American way of life. In Texas, if you live in the country and don’t drive a pickup truck, a kindly cowboy with well-worn boots is likely to smile, lift his battered and stained hat, wipe his forehead with a red bandanna and explain in a slow and kindly drawl, “Well, sir and ma’am, that just ain’t done out here.” And, it ain’t.

The truck doesn’t have to be new. It’s going to be covered with gravel dust from the back roads and mud from the fields anyaways. And, it can be a bit worn itself, with some chips in the paint and the bumper not quite straight, but it should be a pickup truck. That’s just the way things work best out there in the country. No offense, sir and ma’am, they just do.

The work horse of the frontier, farm and ranch is the pickup truck. For some things, it’s still the horse, but that horse sure does appreciate the help from Mr. Ford and his friends. The pickup truck can be a Ford, Chevrolet or any another brand. Texans are wide open to new ideas and looks. Depends on what you and you’re kin are partial to. Can even be a Toyota.

Now, that’s a story, a bit of Texas apocrypha that might just be true. Years ago, Toyota only had a small pickup car, not even a real truck. The story goes that some Texans wondered about this and invited some of those Toyota executives to a Texas football game. At half time, the hosts said, “Let’s take a walk in the parking lot.” They did and as they were walking along, one Texan said to his guest, “What do you see?” Now, this was a car executive and he noticed cars, but there weren’t many cars out there in that big old lot. A puzzled look crossed the executive’s face, he thought and then he smiled, nodded and said, “I see trucks, many trucks, many big trucks.” The Texan smiled a big smile right back. Those two went back to the second half of that game and designed a nice big truck for Texas, so it’d fit right into that parking lot with the rest of those fine vehicles. Now, that’s a sight would warm the heart of any Texan, and many a Japanese too. I betcha.

But, back to the original question. When was that first pickup truck?

The first official, rolling off the assembly line, not built in the back shed, honest to goodness and you can buy it downtown at the dealership, that first pickup truck was the . . .

1925 Ford Model T Runabout with a cargo bed in the rear!

It was a beauty. The 1925 Ford pickup came standard with a front mat to rest your boots on, a jack, tire pump and a tool kit. Can you imagine? It had its own tool kit, with a screwdriver, monkey wrench, spark plug wrench, end wrench and hub cap wrench. Back in those days, you performed a lot of your own maintenance. Talk about speed. That truck had an L-head, 4 cylinder engine that exploded with 20 horsepower. A motoring monster, it sat on an extended 100-inch base, count ’em, 100 inches from front to back. A marvel, simply a marvel, and it was yours for only 281 dollars U.S. Oh, I failed to mention, it also had an adjustable tailgate, four stake pockets and heavy-duty rear springs. Did the wonders ever cease? In the eyes of the motor driven public, apparently not. 34,000 were sold that first year, and they’re still a sought after collector’s item this year.

Get ready, world, the pickup truck was on the road and drving your way. The versatile vehicle still is. It may not be the prettiest or the cleanest or the most elegant or the most outfitted, but it’s a part of the family and that’s just the way it is. You betcha.

Jump in and hold on for the bumps. We got some work to do and this old truck’s the one can do it.

Grandpa Jim

What is a “blog?”

Hopefully, it is not a “blob.” When analyzing a problem and defining a word, it can help to determine what a thing is not. So, let’s start with blob and see if we can get to blog.

In 1958, the musical group “The Five Blobs” released their hit to a scared, cowering, can’t-wait and screaming country. “Beware of the Blob” was a musical phenomenon in only 5 lines: “Beware of the Blob! /It creeps and leaps and glides and slides across the floor/Right through the door and all around the wall, /A splotch, a blotch, /Be careful of the Blob!” Burt Bacharach co-wrote the piece, so it had good genes.

The song was the theme song for the movie “The Blob” which featured a giant jelly-like gob of bubble gum that just kept growing and growing and growing devouring all and everything in its path. Steve McQueen made his debut in the film as the fast-thinking teenager who said, “Fly the thing to the frozen Arctic, it’s afraid of the cold.” It worked, Steve went on to be a star and The Blob is still up there somewhere under the snow, waiting.

The Blob was released as a double feature with “I Married a Monster from Outer Space.” They don’t make movies like that anymore. Actually, I kinda miss ‘em.

Now, we have blogs. Whooo, Whooo. Whooo. I know, it sounds scary, but they really aren’t — most of the time. You’re reading one. Sorry, no catchy song here about growing globs of gum oozing from your laptop or smart phone. Just a blog.

The word “blog” is a combination of the two words, “web” and “log.” Take the “b” from web and add it to the “log” from log and you have a “blog.”

Why did they do that?

Because a blog is a WEB site that allows the site owner to LOG into the web each day (really as often as the owner likes) where that person in charge can post a piece of brand new writing for others to read and those others can post their own responsive comments (if the site allows comments to be posted – this site doesn’t to ensure all materials are suitable for young readers). Each blog post is dated and timed on a searchable LOG, which is another reason for the “log” in blog. It’s all very ordered and bloggy

A traditional web site is static in its content and does not normally change daily. You go there to read about things, but what you are reading may only change when, for example, the product or pricing changes.

It may take a lot of work to change the content on a traditional web site. Not so with a blog. A blog is changing all the time as new material is logged into the web through the blog portal. So, an active blog is constantly growing. It is devouring new facts and ideas and expanding with the thoughts, stories and word wanderings of its host. In theory, an over-active blog could take over the Internet and become “The Blob of the World-Wide Web.” Don’t worry. Most bloggers don’t write that much, but in potentiality, a blog could become the blob.

Today, most new web sites have a blog page where new material can be posted daily and a part of the site where the material does not change. This site is like that. You have a “Blog Posts” tab where daily during the week I place new material for you to read, and you have tabs for “Uncle Joe Stories” and “Mary & Other Stories” where the content only changes when a new story is added.

So, on this web site, you have both a fun Blog with constantly changing blog posts and a fixed Web Site with stories that stay the same. There is no blob here, nothing to stick to your shoe and eat the family car. And, I will say today what has never been said before for Uncle Joe Stories — here you can have “All the fun of a Blog without the Blob.”

Enjoy the blog, but watch your step, just to be on the safe-side – they say it’s getting warmer up there in the Arctic (whooo, whooo), just kidding, no blob here, I hope,

Grandpa Jim

The new Uncle Joe story is on the Home page.

Enjoy your weekend,

Grandpa Jim

On October 5, 2005, my wife died.

Moira was a gentle soul who only wanted to help others. She loved life.

On December 7, 2000, a neighbor called me at the office and said Moira had a very bad headache. I rushed home and rushed Moira to the emergency room. On the way, she said she could smell gasoline. Everything smelled normal to me. With a brain tumor, you can have a heightened sense of smell. That day, December 7, 2000, was the start of our battles with cancer.

December 7 is Pearl Harbor Day. On December 7, 1941, the bombs dropped on Pearl Harbor. War in the Pacific was officially declared later, but the war started there that day. It was the first of many battles. When I stood on the white memorial above the USS Arizona in the bright morning sun, I thought of December 7, 1941, and I thought of December 7, 2000. That was the day the battles started for us.

Almost five years later, on October 5, 2005, they stopped for Moira

They didn’t for me. I think they didn’t for many who loved her.

I needed time. For me, there were still battles to fight.

August 6, 1945 was the day the bomb dropped on Hiroshima. The end of the war in the Pacific was officially proclaimed later, but the battling stopped there that day. In a bright flash of light, tragic as it was for so many and sad, new life began.

August 6 is the Feast of the Transfiguration. On that day 2,000 years ago, a humble fisherman from Galilee was shown to walk through great sadness, change and be robed in clothes as bright as a flash of lighting. His followers did not understand. They did not understand why there would still be battles, but they saw new life and found hope.

On August 6, 2011, Mary became my wife.

I saw a beam of sunlight brush Mary’s face and reflect off the white of her dress. On the arm of her brother, she turned to the center aisle. On each side, smiling faces turned to follow her steps. Eyes wide in wonder, I watched and waited. In the bright afternoon in front of our families and friends, we turned to each other and said “Yes.” On that day, August 6, 2011, our new life began.

There will still be trials, battles to be faced and fought. Moira taught me never to stop fighting. Beginning December 7, 2000 and through the battles that followed, I watched her grow calmer, sweeter. On that last day, October 5, 2005, before she left, I saw her smile. I see her glancing back with that soft smile. Moira showed me that the battles do end. There is new life and hope. On August 6, 2011, Mary helped me find that life and hope.

My life holds special days.

I see those days are not mine alone.

And, I am amazed at the gift a day can be.

Thank you,

Grandpa Jim

Earthquakes shake Dallas!!!

I was moody last Friday night and all day Saturday, acting strange and wanting to go to the grocery, buy extra food and hide it. Something was building up. I could feel it. Sunday morning, I woke up early and could no get back to sleep.

At 11 pm Saturday night, two earthquakes hit Dallas!!

The first in suburban Irving about 10 miles from downtown was 3.4 on the Richter scale. It was quickly followed by a 3.1 quake about 7 miles west of downtown Dallas. I live near downtown.

One article reported that serious damage can occur at 4.5 and injuries can occur at 5.0. These quakes were much lower in intensity and were reportedly felt only quite near their epicenters. On the web, there was a picture of a water bottle fallen over. From the words, I couldn’t tell if a worried dog or a seismic shake had toppled that mighty bottle, but it was an actual picture of a bottle of pure spring water and it was on its side on what appeared to be the floor. A picture is worth a 1,000 words.

For me, did “I feel the earth move under my feet” and “The sky come tumbling down, tumbling down?” Thank you, Carole King, that was a great song, but I did not feel a thing around me. On the other hand, inside me, “Did I just lose control?” Well, a little, some of the people around me might have commented, under there breath of course, that “He’s losing it.” “Did I feel my heart start to trembling?” Well, I was moody, pensive and worried.

I have heard it suggested that animals feel and react to the approach of a quake. Dogs bark and chase their tails. Rabbits retreat to their burrows and shut their eyes. Birds take off and fly the other way. Bees stop buzzing, huddle in their tree and talk honey. Why not people? Why wouldn’t some people, not all but a few, be effected and act strange in their own ways? I know I felt much better after I heard about the quakes on Sunday morning, but I was still nervous. . . .

The third earthquake hit late Sunday night!

Again in Irving, very near the site of the first quake, this shake was only 2.1 on the Richter Scale. I felt even better after it moved on. My old pre-quake self has returned.

After I received the news Sunday morning, I remember thinking “Earthquakes in Dallas, this will be big news in the morning paper.” Nope, I could not find an article on these disturbing events, not Sunday or Monday – in the paper. I had to go on the Internet to discover documentation verifying the occurrences. Why?

A surprise to me, I found that North Texas has been rattled by minor earthquakes since 2008. I thought “No way” and kept digging. Spot on! Within 100 miles of Dallas, there were 2 earthquakes in July 2012 (5.0 and 2.7), 6 in June 2012 (5.0, 4.0, 5.0, 2.1, 3.3 and 5.0), and 1 in January 2012 (4.36). 7 earthquakes were listed in 2011 (from 2.2 to 4.36 in magnitude), 1 in 2010 (2.1), 2 in 2009 (3.3, 3.0), and 1 in 2008 (3.0). If my count is right, this is 23 earthquakes (including the 3 over the weekend) within 100 miles of me in the last 4 years. By now, minor earthquakes are old hat, minor occurrences, fallen water bottles floating in a sea of more newsworthy events. That’s why the paper didn’t run a story.

For me, at least for the last 4 years, this comes as a surprise and an immense relief. I now have something to pin my mood swings on. I have “pre-quake syndrome,” in my medical parlance, “PQS.” The earth tenses, I tense. The ground relaxes with a quake, I relax with a sigh of relief. “It wasn’t me. Really. It was my PQS. You understand, don’t you?” Do you think she’ll buy it?

Maybe a little rock and roll can be a good thing, in moderation of course,

Grandpa Jim