On Plastic-Bag Kites & Enjoyably Useless Engineering
On Saturday night, I made a kite.
I had been out walking during the day, and the spring wind kept snatching at my plastic bag from the convenience store, sometimes almost filling it with air. It brought on a sudden memory of summers in California, tying twine to the handles of shopping bags and running across the lawn at top speeds, dragging our bag-kites behind us and watching gleefully as they made it several feet off the ground, as long as we kept moving. I wanted to relive that joy. It had to be done right, though.
I set a few quick rules:
- this would be a spur-of-the-moment construction; no serious design work
- no buying of any materials, either
- if it lifted several feet off the ground, it would be a success. Continuous running and pulling it would be allowed, in order to achieve this lift.
By the time I got home, I had determined that the best light, stiff objects to hold the bags open would be straws, and that scotch tape would hold well enough, as long as I didn't use much. Weight (or lack thereof) was paramount in my mind. I began to collect as many plastic drugstore bags as I could find under my kitchen sink. Where would I get enough straws? I considered walking brazenly into any cafe and grabbing a fistful of straws, but dismissed that plan as too risky. This kite-making operation had to be covert (notwithstanding my plan to run through a city park dragging a bunch of plastic bags and straws on a string). When Scotty & I went to the park to toss around an old tennis ball, I cunningly suggested take-away burritos for dinner. Success! I knew that the restaurant had bins of plastic straws.
With great fortune, I came out of the restaurant encounter with a double blessing - my fistfuls of straws, and also a free side of guacamole from the inexplicably kind checkout girl.
While watching Stars Wars that night, e.g. Star Wars I, e.g. Star Wars IV, e.g. Star Wars: A New Hope, I got to work. After peeling open the first ten straws, I wisened up and set Scotty to work on the other 50-odd straws. Each bag (I had six in usable condition) would be given a rectangular frame to hold it open. Alec Guiness sneaking around the Death Star makes any project go quickly, and I soon had my bags prepared. Next came the little front harness, created by threading string through straws and making three decreasing triangles. Like any well-prepared girl, I had already owned a big roll of sturdy string. Just about when Darth Vader got catapulted into deep space, I had finished taping the sides of the bags together (upgrading to packing tape), and by the time that Luke had successfully navigated the final run, "just like Beggar's Canyon back home," my kite was complete. After running up and down the hall a few times, and almost crashing into walls while looking behind me, I determined that it lacked a tail, and fashioned a simple counter-balance with a string of knotted bags.
I had been hoping for a repeat of Saturday's gusts on Sunday, but it was not to be. The entire day was wasted on bland blue skies and obnoxiously still air. I'm crossing my fingers that today will produce good kite-"flying" wind, but I can wait if necessary. Flying my bag-kite will be fun, but for me, the real enjoyment was the designing and creating of the object. I had forgotten the pleasure of attempting to solve a problem by engineering a suitable solution. As a kid, I used to spend hours trying to make sandals out of tree bark or soup out of lettuce (okay, both of these experiments were less successful, but there were many others that went extremely well, including the elaborate two-story pulley system to send messages between my brother's window and the playset in the garden, or the miniature blue velvet armchair I created for my dollhouse). Now I'm yearning to get back into those wonderful, meaningless, fascinating projects.
My next plan is to make a cage for a raw egg, using only tape and plastic forks, and then drop it from a height onto concrete. Will the egg break, or can I devise a method to encapsulate it with the forks and keep it safe? That will be the question...can I create an effective "fork field"? (Oh, that pun was terrible! But you have to understand...I have Star Wars on the brain.)
I had been out walking during the day, and the spring wind kept snatching at my plastic bag from the convenience store, sometimes almost filling it with air. It brought on a sudden memory of summers in California, tying twine to the handles of shopping bags and running across the lawn at top speeds, dragging our bag-kites behind us and watching gleefully as they made it several feet off the ground, as long as we kept moving. I wanted to relive that joy. It had to be done right, though.
I set a few quick rules:
- this would be a spur-of-the-moment construction; no serious design work
- no buying of any materials, either
- if it lifted several feet off the ground, it would be a success. Continuous running and pulling it would be allowed, in order to achieve this lift.
By the time I got home, I had determined that the best light, stiff objects to hold the bags open would be straws, and that scotch tape would hold well enough, as long as I didn't use much. Weight (or lack thereof) was paramount in my mind. I began to collect as many plastic drugstore bags as I could find under my kitchen sink. Where would I get enough straws? I considered walking brazenly into any cafe and grabbing a fistful of straws, but dismissed that plan as too risky. This kite-making operation had to be covert (notwithstanding my plan to run through a city park dragging a bunch of plastic bags and straws on a string). When Scotty & I went to the park to toss around an old tennis ball, I cunningly suggested take-away burritos for dinner. Success! I knew that the restaurant had bins of plastic straws.
With great fortune, I came out of the restaurant encounter with a double blessing - my fistfuls of straws, and also a free side of guacamole from the inexplicably kind checkout girl.
While watching Stars Wars that night, e.g. Star Wars I, e.g. Star Wars IV, e.g. Star Wars: A New Hope, I got to work. After peeling open the first ten straws, I wisened up and set Scotty to work on the other 50-odd straws. Each bag (I had six in usable condition) would be given a rectangular frame to hold it open. Alec Guiness sneaking around the Death Star makes any project go quickly, and I soon had my bags prepared. Next came the little front harness, created by threading string through straws and making three decreasing triangles. Like any well-prepared girl, I had already owned a big roll of sturdy string. Just about when Darth Vader got catapulted into deep space, I had finished taping the sides of the bags together (upgrading to packing tape), and by the time that Luke had successfully navigated the final run, "just like Beggar's Canyon back home," my kite was complete. After running up and down the hall a few times, and almost crashing into walls while looking behind me, I determined that it lacked a tail, and fashioned a simple counter-balance with a string of knotted bags.
I had been hoping for a repeat of Saturday's gusts on Sunday, but it was not to be. The entire day was wasted on bland blue skies and obnoxiously still air. I'm crossing my fingers that today will produce good kite-"flying" wind, but I can wait if necessary. Flying my bag-kite will be fun, but for me, the real enjoyment was the designing and creating of the object. I had forgotten the pleasure of attempting to solve a problem by engineering a suitable solution. As a kid, I used to spend hours trying to make sandals out of tree bark or soup out of lettuce (okay, both of these experiments were less successful, but there were many others that went extremely well, including the elaborate two-story pulley system to send messages between my brother's window and the playset in the garden, or the miniature blue velvet armchair I created for my dollhouse). Now I'm yearning to get back into those wonderful, meaningless, fascinating projects.
My next plan is to make a cage for a raw egg, using only tape and plastic forks, and then drop it from a height onto concrete. Will the egg break, or can I devise a method to encapsulate it with the forks and keep it safe? That will be the question...can I create an effective "fork field"? (Oh, that pun was terrible! But you have to understand...I have Star Wars on the brain.)