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Topic: Excerpts from my latest book ...

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Cincydawg

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Excerpts from my latest book ...
« on: Today at 02:48:57 PM »
My friends, Dave, Gary, and Tom, also used to poke fun of me for talking too much about Athens. Finally, late one Thursday night, one said “If Athens is so great, why don’t we go check it out?”. I said “fine, let’s go” and got up. They followed me, not quite sure if I was serious. This is akin to what happens when a red neck says “Hey, y’all watch THIS!”, and nobody was really willing to back down, so I drove everyone by their abodes to pick up a toothbrush and whatever else (we traveled light) and we headed to Athens in the middle of the night. This was about a 7 hour drive back then. 

I suspect for the first 30 miles or so, everyone, including me, figured I was bluffing. I just drove another mile and then another in the middle of the night until it made no sense to turn back. I had called a friend and she said we could sleep on the floor of her living room. Somewhere near the Georgia state line on I-85, I noted a break in the clouds to the southwest that was brighter in the morning sun and point it out and said “That is Athens.”. By then, one of the fellows mostly woke and squinted around and said “I guess we’re really doing it and I had a lab to teach tomorrow.”. 

About six AM we arrived and my friend exclaimed “You’re HERE?!?!?” and said she had to leave for her job, so we piled out and passed out on the floor. After what must have been a snorefest of 4 guys riding all night in a rather cramped 1973 Chevy Nova 350, we got up and decided we were hungry and set out for a bite. We toured campus and downtown and the “tree that owns itself”, and then for dinner I took them to “Charlie Williams Pinecrest Lodge”, which sadly is no more today in original location, but was at the time a “quaint” all-you-can eat catfish and BBQ place with a lot of Indian heads and various relics in a log cabin building. That is some good eatin’, and we were hungry. 

After chowing down, we drove near downtown Athens to the B&L Warehouse, which also sadly is not there any more. This old warehouse had been converted into a bar/nightclub, part of the Athens music scene. A buddy asked the bouncer if they had any live music and the fellow said “Six bands”. My buddy thought he was kidding, but the place had two stages with a band on one and another setting up or breaking down on the other, so it was nonstop music and 50 cent beer. By this time, they allowed as how all my bragging about how cool Athens was not an idle boast. But that night it started raining, and got cold, and rained some more as the temperature dropped well below freezing. The next morning when we had planned to get back to school, everything was coated with a thick layer of ice. I struggled to get to the car without slipping to warm it up and chisel off the ice when a Jeep went by the place going downhill, spinning 360° time after time. We looked at each other and figured we were not going anywhere soon. It finally warmed up a bit later in the afternoon and the worst of it cleared and we did manage to get back to Chapel Hill as several of us had “stuff to do” on Monday, but it was a good time. We had all bought shirts, one red and one white, with big block letters on the front “GEORGIA” which the four of us would wear often around campus to the bemusement of many who did not understand.

Cincydawg

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Re: Excerpts from my latest book ...
« Reply #1 on: Today at 02:50:25 PM »
One weekend, a group of us decided to go “hunting” on the farm in southeastern Virginia owned by a graduate student’s uncle, so off we went. I had no shotgun at the time, so they loaned me “Daty’s double barrel. I didn’t know who “Daty” might be until my friend mentioned his “grand-daty”. They also said things like “hoos” for “house” there. It was a very large peanut farm with some corn fields, and we went out into a field that had been partly harvested and each took a position on each side, probably 150 yards from each other, shooting “dove”. I didn’t know what a dove was, so I asked, and was told anything flying would be a dove. I stood there in the edge of the corn for a while when something flew directly over head, so I took a shot, and something rather large lost feathers and made a kind of crash landing about 40 yards out from me. (I should add that I no longer take any joy in hunting at all, aside from hunting food at Kroger, but it was nice to tromp around outside back when.) Anyway, the bird was down in the corn stubble and would raise its head every few seconds and I’d stop and shoulder “Daty’s gun” and aim, and then it would drop back down to the ground. This happened 3 or 4 times and by now I could hear laughter from my buds. Finally it raised up when I was perhaps 15 yards out and I fired again and that was it for the bird. I approached and learned I had shot a mallard duck. Out of season. Oops. 

Well, we stood out there for 2-3 hours and I started shooting actual dove and managed to bring down 5 or 6 of them. My friends were firing upwards as well, but when we decided to get some lunch, I was the only one with any game. Gary said “I thought you said you probably wouldn’t hit anything with that shotgun.” And I responded “Well, back home in Georgia, we use rifles.”. They didn’t know whether I was kidding so they let it drop. Later back home I cooked the 12 or so dove, which are very tasty, and the duck, which was stringy and not very good, but we had a good time. 

Anyway, back in the lab, my work was still not going all that well. Sometimes, things just don’t work, for whatever reason. Sometimes you get a string of things that didn’t work and it becomes rather demoralizing. Sometimes, this goes on day after day after day. Your boss gets antsy. You get antsy. A fellow grad student down the hall told me he would make pyridine hydrochloride when this happened. That is a simple reaction and produces nice crystals so you get positive feedback. Of course, pyridine smells awful, but so what? It could restore your confidence anyway. Over time, it seemed like more and more of my attempts were working to one degree or another. I got familiar with the equipment we had and would stay up all night running the department NMR, a large item that gave results after about 2-3 hours of its doing its thing. That was cool really and there was a large comfy chair in that lab, so I’d sleep. I had trained myself to awaken when the machine chimed to indicate it was done. I had some fun learning more and more about it and the expert day time operator took me under his wing, which he did not always do, and show me tricks of the trade. That backfired a time or two as when other grad students would be running it at night and they’d get into trouble, they’d call me at 2 AM to bail them out. Anyway, it helped me generate a LOT of data of no particular relevance for part of my thesis.

Cincydawg

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Re: Excerpts from my latest book ...
« Reply #2 on: Today at 02:52:44 PM »
One Saturday I was in the lab at my desk doing something when I heard a rather large BANG! There was an undergrad in the lab at the time, it was summer, and he had been studying and then getting up to check a distillation he was doing. This time he checked and had forgotten to wear his safety glasses and the distillation exploded sending glass everywhere, including cutting up his face. He had a piece of glass lodged in his eye in fact, and the hood was somehow glowing and on fire. I rushed over and pushed him under the safety shower to get the chemicals off him. I had a brand new lab coat which was clean, unusually, and put that around him and grabbed some dry powder fire extinguishers to put out the fire. The fume hood was a mess and there was glass all over the floor, along with water and bloody rags I had used to wipe him down a bit, powder from the extinguishers and two dead extinguishers. I recall it was chilly outside, so I got him downstairs and into my car to take him to the ER about 4 blocks away when he held his arms out and said “My arms are burning” so I did a Blue’s Brothers kind of “hit it” and that 350 roared as I ran through a stoplight and kicked it to the hospital. 

In my mirror I noticed a campus police car receding into the distance but flicking on his lights. Traffic was very light. I pulled into the ER area and tried to get my car out of the way, put on my flashers and left the doors open as I got him inside. I had to explain what had happened and they took him to the back, and after a few minutes a nurse came out and said “Was he exposed to an acid or a base?”. I tried to explain that the reaction he was running was neither, but it was a powerful oxidizing agent. She left, puzzled, and then another nurse came out and we had the same conversation, and then in a bit the doctor came out and asked me the same question, and I tried to explain, but it had been a long time since he had had organic chemistry. He told me they were washing him in a bath with bicarbonate and would that be OK, and I said “Yeah, fine, just use a lot of water, and how’s his eye?“ The doc said it needed stitches but it would be OK.

 I said I needed to move my car and he said fine. I walked outside to find three campus police cars and 5 campus police, one of whom had his ticket book out and his foot propped on my rear bumper writing. I figured this would be not good. He looked up at me and said “Is this your car?” and I replied “Yes, Sir” and he said “What is your hurry?”. I almost said “I was going to a fire” but I nipped my sarcasm in the nick of time and told him the situation. He straightened up and said “Well, next time this happens call us and let us take care of it.” I of course said I would and he put his ticket book away. Calling these bozos to find us up on the sixth floor of Kenan lab would have taken time we did not have, but I was not going to argue if he would let me off, and he did. I headed back to the lab maybe three hours later after taking the "kid" home. 

OK, so now I need to call the boss. I park, legally, on Saturday, and go inside. By now it is past noon and other people have come into the lab and I find outside the open door to the lab that I left open a crowd of grad students clustered looking inside. Now, get the imagery of the lab: One hood is pretty well demolished, broken glassware is everywhere, there is water all over the floor along with fire extinguisher powder and two dead fire extinguishers, several bloody rags, and a general mess. One of the others sees me and asks if I know what happened and I say I do. I guess they were afraid there was a dead body inside somewhere. I get through the crowd and into the lab and call Slayton on the phone and explain what happened. He was not happy. By then another professor had shown up and wanted an explanation and in half an hour Slayton showed up as I was cleaning the place up some. He asked about the student, who turned out to be just fine, so it all was more or less resolved, though we took some further precautions when doing that particular distillation in the future. That student was back in the lab on Monday doing the same reaction again in fact. I thought he was crazy.

 

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