The greatest thing about the internet is that you don't have to just sit there and wonder about stuff anymore. Let's say you're wondering what the chief export of Taiwan is. Unless you're either in a library or have a late vintage World Almanac or encyclopedia on hand, you don't know.
But, sometimes an exhaustive internet search will fail you and you must cry out a virtual call to arms to see if anyone out there can give you a clue. Because, much like the big money answers in Annika's Jeopardy, some questions seem to be deliberately google-proof.
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J'ever wonder how that plastic bottle cap is made? Or those plastic keys on your keyboard? Or that wooden plastic Lincoln Log?
Well, solid plastic pellets are fed, by gravity, from a conical bin called a "hopper" into a heated barrel. The barrel temperature melts the plastic and injects the liquid into the steel mold. The plastic then sits in the mold for a duration of time called a "cure time", during whence is solidifies. In the relatively small molds that we use, this could last anywhere from 10 seconds to nearly a minute. Once the plastic is solid, the mold opens and ejects the plastic part, which then falls onto a chute that guides it into a plastic bin that was made by a machine much bigger than any of ours.
Now, in order to keep the hot molten plastic from over-heating the mold and, thereby, preventing the plastic from solidifying, cold water is continually running through the mold to keep it cool. The water is first run through an air conditioner on steroids called a "chiller". The chiller lowers the incoming city water to somewhere around 55 degrees F, which prevents heat from the plastic from building up and keeps the mold, the plastic, the customer and the business very happy.
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So anyway, on Friday we were sitting in the office and the run of the mill k'chunka'k'chunka'k'chunka noises were sounding smoothly. Then there was a very ugly, loud, churning, constipated metallic gurgling sound that none of us had ever heard before. Then it stopped.
Tex said, "What the hell was that?". Big Red had ju-u-u-u-st stepped out of the office and onto the floor and, thus, was the only one of us who could tell where that brand new sound had come from. He headed straight for the chiller.
The chiller wasn't chillin'. We didn't know what exactly was wrong with it, but Tex knew that we weren't gonna be in business without it so he called HVAC Man and had him come in right away to look at this thing.
By the time the HVAC Man and his team showed up, Tex had gone for the day. So it was Big Red, his employees (three sweet Hispanic ladies of questionable legal status --- but you didn't read that here), and me. And I wasn't even on the clock yet. (Yeah, I "hang out" at work. What's it to ya?)
'Round about 2:00pm I had my head down on the desk, trying to catch some zzz's before beginning my shift, when Big Red tapped me on my shoulder.
"Bob, we gotta go outside," he said. "There's freon filling the shop, we can't stay in here."
He opened the windows in the office and I stepped out onto the floor. **choke** You can't breath this stuff if you tried. Your lungs are smarter than your brain in that area of biological expertise. Outside we went, with all the windows and the loading dock's door open. Big Red sent his girls home early. I trust he paid them for the full day. At about 6:00pm we re-entered the shop and it seemed to have been pretty well aired out. We closed up and shut down for the weekend.
I found out later that HVAC Man had the bright idea of turning on the chiller, to see what it does, and then it burst into flames.
They put the electrical fire out.
Then he had the even brighter idea of turning it on again and freon started spewing out refrigerant like Noam Chomsky spews sophistry.
(That crud was "refrigerant", actually, because "Freon" is a trademarked name that hasn't been installed in cooling units since 1995. Saying "freon" is kinda like saying "scotch tape". I have no info yet on just which refrigerant it was.)
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Monday morning. Big Red discovers that the steel tools that were near the chiller had a thin coat of what looks like rust. What were shiny steel wrenches and pliers and screwdrivers and mallots now have surfaces that have some sort of reddish-brown dust-like corroded texture.
Then he noticed that the labels on the cardboard boxes that were closest to the chiller had turned from white to baby blue. What the huh?
So, what in the world went on here this weekend?
I, of course, hopped onto the internet to find the answer. I searched "freon steel reaction", "refrigerant steel chemical reaction", "freon rust steel contact" and many many other search terms. Nothin'.
The HVAC guy showed up today to retrieve some tools he'd left behind when we evacuated on Friday. Big Red showed him what had happed to the labels and the steel tools. HVAC Man said he'd never seen anything like it before.
Big Red speculated that the cold refrigerant may have hit the warm air and thus induced condensation on the steel that may have resulted in all this oddly curious rustification. But, I mean, if you leave a piece of steel in a dishpan full of water it'd, I'm sure, take longer than a weekend for it to rust. And it wouldn't rust in the same way that these tools rusted. I mean, there'd be frickin' rust, not a thin dusty coating of rust-like grit.
The worst part was when we noticed this afternoon that a brand new mold had the same outer damage as the tools. A brand spanking new mold. Do you know what these things cost to manufacture? We're talking seven figures here. Luckily the mold was closed tight, so it shouldn't effect it's usefullness. But, sheesh, if the customer ever sees the condition of that outer surface he's gonna wanna know what the @#$% happened to his investment and why it isn't in pristine condition before it has ever even been used.
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So, to any longtime experts in heating and air conditioning out there:
What the @#$% happened to that steel over the weekend?!!!!!!!!!!
I thank ye in advance. :)
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UPDATE (6-21-07): As it turns out, that was indeed Freon that spewed from the chiller. Freon 22. Clorodifluoromethane. Apparantly it is no longer used in small air conditioners like those in automobiles, but is still widely used in larger contraptions.
Anyway, according to my new research, Freon doesn't burn but it does decompose at high temperatures. It decomposes into toxic gases like hydrogen fluoride and phosgene.
Phosgene was first used as a chemical weapon in World War I. But it is odorless and acts on the nervous system, so that's not what we smelled on Friday. And certainly not what rusted the steel tools.
Hydrogen fluoride is a gas that is highly corrosive. When diluted in water it becomes hydrofluoric acid. It can dilute glass, and is used to etch and "frost" glass. It's corrosive to metals such as silver, brass, aluminum and, of course, steel.
So what happened, I'm pretty convinced, was that the electrical fire in the chiller heated the cylinder that contained the Freon. And, Freon being very cold, it doesn't take much heat to bring it to boil. The cylinder was punctured by the "boiling" Freon (luckily it didn't explode), and the overheated Freon decomposed until it produced hydrogen fluoride, and the hydrogen flouride gas corroded the steel.
Everything I've read claims that Freon is harmless except in extreme exposures, and the descriptions of the smell and effects of hydrogen fluoride match with what we experienced on Friday.
Luckily, Tex found a polish that can clean the corroded surface of the molds and tools. The stuff wipes away rust like it was nothing but a slight tarnish on dinner utensils. Actually, that's probably what it is very much like, if not exactly like.
What the hell is "tarnish", anyway?
I don't have to just sit here and wonder. Back to google.....
...heeeeere we go!
Stephen answered the last question thusly:
WHOSE ANSWERS ARE YOU LOOKING FORWARD TO GETTING BACK?
Anyone else who had nothing of there [sic] own and want[s] to steal this.
WERE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE?
My father.
Yep, I'm a junior. But I never use the tag "Jr." because, well, because I believe that every single someone should have their own name. I've been wanting to legally change my name for years and years, but have never settled on a preference. I've been thinking of Warren Keirnan. Two proud names in my family, but perhaps too many n's. Maybe Warren Riley?
WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED?
Sometime in February of 1996. Without going into details, it had to do with my ex- and eye surgury that left her blind in her left eye.
DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING?
I like that I can write legibly while writing reeeeeally small. I can put detailed information about a vintage record album onto a round sticker that's 1/2" in diameter.
WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE LUNCH MEAT?
I'll go with corned beef.
DO YOU HAVE KIDS?
No.
IF YOU WERE ANOTHER PERSON WOULD YOU BE FRIENDS WITH YOU?
No. I fear that everytime I'd try to have a conversation with myself I'd only end up responding with "I know, I know...."
DO YOU USE SARCASM A LOT?
I try not to. It really is the lowest form of wit. But, sometimes, that's all you got.
DO YOU STILL HAVE YOUR TONSILS?
Nope. Had 'em out when I was about three. I still remember that hospital visit.
WOULD YOU BUNGEE JUMP?
No. I don't do sports like hang-gliding or scuba diving where the equipment you use serves no purpose other than to keep you from dying.
WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE CEREAL?
Cheerios. But I don't eat 'em in a bowl with milk. I eat 'em by the handful out of the box. Mmmmm. Dusty oatty goodness.
DO YOU UNTIE YOUR SHOES WHEN YOU TAKE THEM OFF?
Of course. How else would I get them off my feets?
DO YOU THINK YOU ARE STRONG?
Well, I can carry a ton. Ooops, I meant tune. Does that count?
WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE ICE CREAM?
I'm not big on ice cream. But I did like Ben & Jerry's Chunky Monkey when I tried it many years ago. I'm partial to Hagen Daas' raspberry sherbet.
WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE?
The way they look at me.
RED OR PINK?
Red.
WHAT IS THE LEAST FAVORITE THING ABOUT YOURSELF?
My inability to quit smoking. I do enjoy a cigarette, but sheesh. Snot good.
WHO DO YOU MISS THE MOST?
My friend, "Freedom's Slave". And Sister the Elder, who got married and moved down to Georgia last year.
WHAT COLOR PANTS AND SHOES ARE YOU WEARING?
Black Levi jeans and black hushpuppy-like sneakers.
WHAT WAS THE LAST THING YOU ATE?
Pizza with hot cherry peppers from good ol' Massimo's.
WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW?
Nothing. It's 2:43 a.m..
IF YOU WHERE A CRAYON, WHAT COLOR WOULD YOU BE?
Oak.
FAVORITE SMELLS?
Onions frying. Dried leaves in the fall. CoCo Puffs.
WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO ON THE PHONE?
My friend Lawruh, yesterday. We were talking about going to the Irish Festival today. Luckily we never bothered because we had a wicked cool thunderstorm this afternoon.
FAVORITE SPORTS?
To watch? Baseball. To play? Darts, pool, shuffleboard, bocce.
HAIR COLOR?
Light brown.
EYE COLOR?
Blue.
DO YOU WEAR CONTACTS?
Nope. Glasses all the way. I remember that, as a child, I tried to touch my eyeball with my finger and my eye said "No.... no.... don't do that.... ". So, I never had the wherewithall to bother trying out contact lenses.
FAVORITE FOOD?
Italian, Mexican, and good ol' American comfort food.
SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDINGS?
I like "creepy" more than "scary", if by "scary" you mean something that makes me jumpy. I don't like shocking surprises, but appreciate suspence. Love Alfred Hitchcock and the old Vincent Price movies. But, overall, I'm partial to comedies.
LAST MOVIE YOU WATCHED?
United 93.
WHAT COLOR SHIRT ARE YOU WEARING?
Black t-shirt.
SUMMER OR WINTER?
Summertime. Summertime. Sum sum summertime.
HUGS OR KISSES?
Hugs. (Do hugs come in chocolate?)
FAVORITE DESSERT?
Carrot cake.
MOST LIKELY TO RESPOND?
To what? You aren't expecting me to tag anyone with this, are you?
LEAST LIKELY TO RESPOND?
To what? You aren't expecting me to... Oh wait, I gave that answer already.
WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING NOW?
None. The only books I've read, cover to cover, are books I've gotten from the library. I haven't been to the library in years! My books are mainly for reference. Sorry, Daniele Steele fans, but I just can't understand ya...
WHAT IS ON YOUR MOUSE PAD?
A 3-D "holograph" of the Starship Enterprise.
WHAT DID YOU WATCH ON T.V. LAST NIGHT?
Nothing. My TV hasn't even been plugged in since the 2004 election. Sometimes I miss it. But not usually.
FAVORITE SOUND?
Laughter.
ROLLING STONES OR BEATLES?
Beatles.
WHAT IS THE FARTHEST YOU HAVE BEEN FROM HOME?
Nellis Air Force Base, Nevada.
DO YOU HAVE A SPECIAL TALENT?
No. I'm kind of a renaissance man. Or, Jack of all trades, master of none. I can paint, but my sister can paint better. I can sing, but my friend Chandeleir can sing better. I can play guitar, but Freedom's Slave can play better. I can cook, but Lawruh can cook better. I can blog, but....
WHERE WERE YOU BORN?
Bridgeport, Connecticut.
WHOSE ANSWERS ARE YOU LOOKING FORWARD TO GETTING BACK?
Getting back? Again with the tagging? Nope. Whoever is inspired to do this, go ahead and run with it.
I take that back. I'm tagging one person. She doesn't "do memes", but it doesn't hurt to try and play tag. I hereby tag the grand Duchess of the blogosphere, Rachel Lucas! :)
I calculate that I, as of right now, have had 7 hours of sleep in the past 52
hours. Happy happy joy uh boyyyy......
So, anyway, I made it into court this morning and went into the place I was when I was last in these hyar parts: "Court Room D".
'Cuz we all love "Court Room D", don't we?
Turns out I was sposed to be in Court Room C.
No biggie.
Oh, did I mention that I did laundry last night, but forget to pour detergent into the belly of Robby? I got up early and threw the load into the dryer only to discover, upon donning a "fresh" clothial (<--word?) artifact, that I had neglected to add @$#% detergent to the churning mixture!
I was tired.
Anywho, I threw on something that looked better than a Ted Nugent tee-shirt and drove to the courthouse.
Don't get me started on parking.
I mean, Crikey, you can't get within a quarter-mile of downtown before you meet large lawns and highways and by-ways and My-Ways and shy ways. The closest you can get to the courthouse without having to pay for parking is, probably, a longer distance than Jim Fixx would dare to crawl. Downtown is sheltered I tells ya.
Anywhy, the Judge asked me if I'd been able to secure an attorney yet.
No. I've spoken to many a' ttornery and they all want to take the case but hey want $1000.00 up front.
Can't happen.
Not gonna happen.
So, after seven hours in court, I procured a "continuance" of five weeks so's I can find a lawyer who'll screw me somewhat less than the court will.
Wish me luck.
Defendants, beware: The "Court" talks to the State's attorneys in ways that they'll never talk to you. Get a lawyer. Unless you want to prostrate yourself before the sacred wooden bench and beg for forgiveness, get a lawyer who knows how to speak for you.
I fear that I've something very big ahead of me. I'm gonna do the best I can.
I don't want to go it alone, but I may have to.
The judge was very generous. He gave me five weeks to find a lawyer, even though I asked for no more than two weeks.
Send me some good vibes. I don't want to have to do this alone.
:)
I had no idea that Johnny Thunders ever made a video for this song.
I know that at the time he was coked up on heroin or goofballs or something. But, sheesh...
Great song. Dead artist. Someone wiser than you or I once said that "everyone serves a purpose, even if it's only to give us a warning". That sentiment truely epitomizes a love of the lost.
Johnny was already gone. 20 years before he actually died. Still young. Hard to love. Love him anyway.
Here is Johnny Thunders in 1978:
Johnny sings one thing, but his guitar cries another. No wonder I loved this song as a teenager.
Ooo, and I like the way he turns his back on us at the end, as if to say "I love you too much for my own good". He couldn't even trust his fans. Very cool. Very sad.
UPDATE: And, just to show you who he was, here is Johnny Thunders singing an ode to none other than Sid Vicious called Sad Vacation:
