Me: Ed, do you have a ruler?
Ed: No, what do you need to measure?  I can eyeball most things within a 16th of an inch.  How about you John?
John: I can usually guess within 30 thousandths.
Me: Bullshit!  How thick’s your nameplate?
John: *closes one eye* Hm… about 125 thousandths.  A little less.
Me: To the micrometer! *gets micrometer*.
John: So what was it?
Me: 118 thousandths.
Ed: Impressive, but I can identify screw gauges at a distance of 10 feet.

Now I know what my engineering challenge will be next week.

We’re dog sitting for a friend of my brothers and said dog Judas has a few quirks.  Our dog Max needs a bit of a lead to catch things thrown at him whereas Judas could pluck a side-armed pistachio from the air.  Judas also has egregiously long claws that make walking for him something akin to secretaries that have to type with their palms because of having 4″ acrylic nails/talons.   He also has a tough time navigating stairs to the point where if he’s at the top and wants to go down he simply barks endlessly.  Today we got a lick of possibly why he does this: he built up such momentum going down that when he tried to brake at the bottom, his paws couldn’t catch (his claws were lifting his paw pads) that he smashed into the wall at the bottom of the stairs.

Engineering!

We’ve installed a doggy crash pad consisting of a bath mat and a pillow and he now ascends and descends stairs with abandon.

An activity I enjoy doing in Engineering merit badge is the neutral buoyancy contest.  Scouts receive a collection of wires, cork pieces, and washers and attempt to create a device that’s neutrally buoyant, failing that, one that falls the slowest.  Today’s youth are quite clever but sometimes fail to grasp how the challenge works, like when I said the device must be free-floating and can’t touch the container, one kid thought that making a wire hook on the side was “free floating” or another that made a compression pin that held the device fast against the sides of the container.

Groups would drops their devices in the test column and watch in wonder thinking they’d reached neutral buoyancy as the downward force of gravity and upward force of Brownian motion and a density difference cancelled out.  “Terry, come quick while it’s balanced!”  If it’s neutrally buoyant now, it should be neutrally buoyant 10 seconds from now.  The containers slowly grew cloudy from many unwashed hands and the children learned the importance of contaminating ones test environment.  These budding astrologers were also quick to blame the pseudoscientific ,from air bubbles stuck to the side of containers to my mere presence one kid saying “you did that” followed by the angry glare.  I’m not sure if there were commenting on my carriage or my ownership of an anti-physics gun.

The winning group fell 14 inches in 30 seconds and proved that kids could be competative about anything as the gaggle of winning 12-year olds went over to older kids and started chanting “In your face!  In your face!”  I imagine Nobel laureats have a similar ritual.

Instructing Engineering merit badge has its emotional highs and lows.  One of those moments is when I review the Willow Island catastrophe where 51 workers were killed when improperly engineered scaffolding collapsed.  At near the height of this section when I review how the caterpillar scaffolding failed one of the kids pulled a pair of boxers out of his jeans.  A F*&#ING PAIR OF BOXERS.  He procedes to verify their cleanliness by putting them over his head and puffing up the legs by blowing on them.

My best recovery was using the systems investigations method to figure out what happened.  Apparently, when he put his cloths away, he didn’t notice a pair of boxers in his jeans.  How do you wear jeans for a day and not notice a ball of cloth somewhere?