Junior scientist
Over on the Daily Page forum they are talking about favorite childhood toys. There was a brief interlude about those electronic hobby kits RadioShack sells, which let budding electrical engineers hook up springs with wires and thereby make lights flash on and off.
I had one of these when I was a kid, but I confess I really didn't understand it. That also was true of the chemistry set, and the BASIC interpreter built into my Commodore 64.
I wanted to understand all these things -- electronics, science, software programming -- and hands-on experience surely would have helped. But those kits can lead kids astray. Take my old chemistry set: Yes, I used it to mix powders and make fluids change color. But I didn't learn much about chemistry. Later, I took advanced placement chemistry in high school partly because of my memories of that set, which raised false expectations with the photographs on its very box. These showed bright-eyed youths looking awed as they made fluids change color. Imagine my surprise when I learned that chemistry is less about mixing potions and more about doing math. Lots and lots of math. And math, unfortunately, was never my strong suit. So much for chemistry.
Likewise software programming. As a child I was deeply moved by science-fiction films like Tron, WarGames and The Computer Wore Tennis Shoes, wherein computers are used to perform dazzling, magical feats. But then I tried programming on my own, on a succession of 1980s home computers, and I found it, well, tedious. And I never much saw the point.
Seeds were planted, though: My first job out of college was in computer programming, and I did that for a number of years. I found the work appealing -- if, yes, tedious. (Debugging code, oy.) But it's worth noting that when I programmed professionally, nothing particularly dazzling or magical occured; I did not get zapped into the Tron world. Instead I built database applications for various clients.
All of which is to say: It is good for children to be inspired to go into scientific or technical work, and if kits get kids started down a productive path, then wonderful. But this work, like so much work, requires concentration and discipline, and learning how to do it may even be boring. That doesn't come across in the photographs on the boxes.
Which brings me back to the electronics kits at RadioShack. Inspired by that discussion on the forum, and racked by nostalgic thoughts of the kit I had 25 years ago and didn't understand, I went to RadioShack and picked up this: the Electronics Learning Lab, as designed by one Forrest M. Mims III.
Some Web research reveals that Mims is a creationist and a conspiracy theorist; that also is not on the box! His manuals for the Electronics Learning Lab have a kind of beauty, though. They are hand-lettered and dense, and come to think of it, they're really not for kids. So I shouldn't feel bad that 11-year-old me somehow failed to grok.
Regardless, I spent the bulk of Sunday afternoon hooking up springs with wires and making lights flash on and off. And I studied, really studied, those circuit diagrams, and began to get glimpses of what this is all about.
And I felt happy. Weirdly satisfied and happy. How nice to revisit an old source of bafflement and find it, well, manageable.
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