Pewter Flasks
Potato Salad
Hydrogen Fuel Cells
Engineered Wood Siding

Long before the plastic water bottle, there was the hip flask, carried in a pocket or strapped to the waist or hip.

Unlike a water bottle or earlier canteen, the flask was used for carrying a very different type of thirst quencher-- several ounces of hard liquor.

In the 18th century, it became quite fashionable for well-to-do europeans to carry elegant flasks crafted from silver or pewter.

Today, flasks are typically given as gifts, often engraved with monograms or messages.

Pewter is an ideal metal for flask making because it's so malleable.

They begin with a sheet of raw pewter that's about 8/100" thick.

With a guillotine cutter, they slice a rectangular starting piece called a blank.

They lay this blank onto a copperplate, which has the flask decorations on it in raised form.

They feed the plate and blank through a rolling press.

The compression stamps the design into the malleable pewter.

Next, they place the imprinted blank in a hydraulic press outfitted with flask-shaped forming dyes.

In a single strike, the press shapes the blank into half a flask.

They transfer it to a trim press and clip off the excess pewter around the perimeter.

They repeat the entire process to produce the other half of the flask, then solder the two parts together.

They shape certain styles manually.

A metalsmith heats the blank with a gas torch to make the pewter pliable, then wraps it around a flask-shaped aluminum block.

He hammers the adjoining edges flat with a wooden mallet and removes the block.

He fuses the edges by running a line of pure tin solder down the entire length of the joint.

Meanwhile, on another press, workers stamp out pewter-sheet rectangles.

The metalsmith solders one rectangle to the top of the flask...

Then cuts it to the right shape with jeweler scissors.

Next, he solders on a pewter thread for the cap.

Before fusing a pewter rectangle to the bottom of the flask, he stamps it with a maker's mark.

Then he dabs the bottom of the flask in flux, a chemical which helps solder run smoothly without globs.

Then, just as he did with the top, he solders on the bottom, then contours it.

Next, he puts a drill through the cap thread and bores a hole for filling and boring.

Then, with an abrasive belt, he grinds all the solder seams flat, making them barely noticeable.

Workers now fill the finished flask with water to check for leaks and rinse out the interior.

Then they screw a pewter cap onto each thread.

Now a buffer takes over.

With a cloth wheel and pumice, he removes any surface imperfections, such as marks left by the abrasive belt they used earlier to grind down the solder seams.

Once the buffing's complete, the flasks go through a dishwasher cycle to clean off pumice residue, then the finishing touch.

A polisher shines up the pewter until it has a reflective-mirror finish.

They pour out whatever water's still inside, emptying the flask for its new vocation.

Unlike the flasks used to conceal liquor under clothing back in the days of prohibition, these modern-day pewter flasks are meant to be seen and treasured.

In many families, a potato-salad recipe is a closely guarded secret passed down through the generations.

The family barbecue just wouldn't be the same without it.

But when there's no time to whip up a homemade batch, there's always the factory-made kind.

The appeal of potato salad knows no boundaries.

People around the globe have cooked up various versions of this dish over the years.

There are so many different recipes, they could fill an entire cookbook.

But no matter how you toss it, potato salad is always pure comfort food.

Of course, it's all about the potato.

At this factory, they use varieties with low water content so the potato salad doesn't end up soggy.

They arrive fresh from the field and funnel out of the truck trailer onto a conveyer for an efficient and gentle unloading.

They head up to a washer to clean off the dirt and remove stones and pebbles.

The potatoes then bounce across rollers covered with fine grit abrasive.

This scrapes off the skins.

Once peeled, a worker inspects the white flesh for bruises or other flaws.

They then tumble down a chute towards the dicing machine.

It's equipped with these cutting cylinders.

The blades are positioned vertically on one, while they're in a horizontal configuration on another.

As they revolve in sync, they carve the potatoes into cubes.

The blades can be adjusted to cut the cubes larger or smaller, depending on the recipe.

Here they turn out medium chunks for a creamy, american-style potato salad.

Workers roll trays full of potato cubes into a big pressure cooker to steam-cook for 6 to 10 minutes.

Pressure cooking preserves the nutrients and original flavor of the potatoes.

While the potatoes are cooking, they prepare the crunchy component-- the celery.

The celery sticks first go for a sudsy ride to scrub them clean.

Along the way, an inspector sorts out leaves and over-ripe pieces.

They set cutting cylinders to dice more finely than with the potatoes.

Out of the washer and thoroughly rinsed, the celery sticks tumble into the dicer, and it chops them into small bits.

The minced celery exits into a vibrating trough and tosses about in a peroxide solution for a second cleaning.

It's an extra precaution because the celery won't be cooked, and cooking kills bacteria.

After another rinse, the soaked celery lands in a perforated drum that fits into another drum.

The colander rotates within the drum to spin-dry the celery.

The next ingredient is the eggs.

They arrive at the factory already hard-boiled and de-shelled by the supplier, so all that's left is the slicing and dicing.

The egg whites cube nicely.

The yolk separates and crumbles completely.

With so many yolk crumbs, their favor will permeate the entire potato salad.

They're now ready to combine some of the ingredients.

A worker adds finely cut onion to the egg, followed by diced red pepper and then celery.

They weigh the mix with each new ingredient to confirm that the portions are right.

And now for the dressing.

They pump the ingredients out of big storage tanks.

They include vegetable oil, sugar, vinegar, and egg yolks.

Whipped into a frothy mayonnaise, the dressing flows into an enormous, steel mixing vat.

They add the chopped-egg-and-vegetable combination.

The now cooked potato cubes join the other ingredients in the vat.

Blades spiral slowly for a gentle mixing to ensure the potato salad doesn't turn to mush.

With the salad now ready, suctioning devices set plastic tubs on a track conveyer.

Sensors signal their approach to dispenser nozzles, and the tubs stop right on cue for a fill-up of creamy potato salad.

Suctioning arms then flip the lids onto the tubs, and once sealed, they're on their way.

In just 40 minutes, they've manufactured enough potato salad at this factory to feed 500 people.

It should be quite a picnic.

A hydrogen fuel cell runs vehicles and other machines by directly converting the chemical energy in hydrogen gas into electrical power.

Hydrogen is an abundant fuel source.

It can be extracted from water, enabling almost any country to produce it domestically.

Hydrogen-fuel-cell engines can power vehicles and run backup generators for large computer operations.

They produce electrical power without any emissions.

At the heart of the engine is a stack of super-thin hydrogen fuel cells.

The engine's blower blows in air.

The fuel tank feeds in hydrogen gas.

Hydrogen and oxygen react and create electricity.

Each fuel cell is made of five parts.

On each end, there's a channelled plate made primarily of carbon, a material which conducts electricity.

Hydrogen enters the cell through the first plate, which channels it through the next component-- a chemically treated paper which conducts both gas and electricity.

Then the hydrogen enters this membrane, where it splits into protons and electrons.

The protons react with the drawn-in oxygen, producing water.

The water passes through another paper to the cell's outer plate, where a pump draws it away.

Meanwhile, the electrons travel to the end of the stack of fuel cells to electrical wires.

After assembling the stack, technicians compress the fuel cells in a hydraulic press.

Compression helps the current flow smoothly from cell to cell.

It also presses the rubber casket around each plate to the adjacent one, sealing the stack so that hydrogen can't leak out.

The technicians run a quality-control test with nitrogen gas to verify the seal.

Before releasing the press, they install high-strength steel rods to bind the compressed cells together.

For a stack this size, the rods apply 3 1/3 tons of pressure.

With a stack now off the press, they hook up an electric circuit board which monitors the voltage of each fuel cell.

After securing the connectors to the stack with an adhesive strip, it's just a matter of connecting one to each fuel cell...

And securing that connection with a special type of epoxy which contains silver to conduct electricity.

Next, they mount the circuit board in a plastic cover to protect it.

The fuel-cell stack is now fully assembled and moves to the factory's test area.

A technologist mounts it on a test station and, simulating installation in an engine, hooks up a hydrogen line, an air line, and a water line for cooling.

The testing machine runs a three-hour, automated performance test.

They mount the stack onto the engine's structural frame, then install the hydrogen recirculation pump.

Next, a water-recirculation pump, which cools the fuel cell by pumping in cool water.

Then they mount the components, which feed hydrogen stored at high pressure in the fuel tank.

That pressure pushes the gas through stainless-steel fuel lines to the cell.

Next, the fan that blows outside air into the fuel cell to react with the hydrogen.

This filter removes dust and other contaminants from the air the fan draws into the fuel cell.

Meanwhile, technicians have assembled the computer that controls the whole engine.

They now connect the wires from the fan, the pumps, and the other engine components to the computer.

They hook up the fuel-cell output wiring, the wires which carry the current the fuel cell creates, and sends it to whatever vehicle or device the engine is powering.

A tiny portion of the cell's output runs the pumps and other engine components.

Now fully assembled, the engine undergoes extensive performance and safety testing.

Once it passes every test, technicians perform a final visual inspection, then install the sheet-metal cover.

The hydrogen-fuel-cell engine is now ready to be shipped to the customer and installed in the machine it'll be powering.

Whether running a vehicle like this forklift or powering computer servers, the only by-product is waste heat and water, which is why hydrogen power is clean energy.

Engineered wood siding is essentially clapboard reinvented.

With its rough grain, it resembles natural wood.

Each board contains wood strands that are resin-bonded for strength and durability.

They're also treated to resist rot and termites.

Engineered wood siding is a chip off the old block-- or a lot of chips, for that matter.

But how do they transform a bunch of wood chips into a solid piece of wood?

It starts with aspen and other kinds of wood.

They transfer the logs to ponds to maintain a consistent moisture content and temperature until production.

The logs land soaking-wet on a conveyer.

Grooved rollers feed them into a debarker.

It shaves off both the tree bark and the cambium-- the soft, green layer beneath the bark.

This exposes the white aspen wood.

The logs land on the next conveyer in a horizontal configuration.

Circular saws cut the logs into smaller chunks, known as bolts.

The bolts head towards a machine called the waferizer.

Here's a look under the waferizer hood.

A 10-ton steel disk holds 48 razor-sharp knives.

When the disc spins, the knives slice the bolts into wafer-thin chips, known as strands, in just seconds.

The strands are the same length, but slightly different widths.

Most are roughly the size of a business card.

They remain flat and don't curl up because of the stability of the aspen wood itself.

A conveyer delivers the wood strands to big, steel bins, and from here, they're fed at a controlled rate to a dryer one floor below.

Heated by a furnace, the cyllindrical dryer is superhot.

It rotates to tumble-dry the aspen strands.

A blender coats the strands with resin adhesive, wax for moisture resistance, and a preservative to ward off rot and termites.

They spray a release agent onto the next conveyor to keep the strands from sticking to it.

Rotating disks orient the first layer so the strands all land in the same direction.

The next layer lands in a more random configuration.

The third layer is again uniform and parallel.

The result is a loosely interwoven mat of wood.

Layering the strands will provide dimensional stability in the finished siding boards.

A carriage now moves a large, circular saw back and forth to cut the mat into sections approximately 16 feet in length.

The sections transfer to a faster conveyor that pulls them forward.

A steel carriage stretches a sheet of heavy, industrial-grade paper across the mat of wood strands.

The paper has been coated with a primer and saturated with a durable adhesive that bonds with the wood strands.

A multitiered press closes to compact the mats and bake them.

The heat and residual moisture activate the resins to turn wood strands and paper into one solid piece of engineered wood.

At the same time, the press embosses the paper topping with a deep, cedar-like grain.

The press opens, revealing the cured and compacted composite sheets.

The thickness has gone from roughly 4" to just under 4/10" a conveyer doubles as a scale to confirm the content of each sheet is exact.

Saws trim the sides and slice the sheets in two.

A pusher pushes then shoves the smaller sheets forward, and another saw trims the ends.

The trimmings don't go to waste.

They're ground up and used as fuel for the dryer.

They now have a stack of 40 engineered wood sheets.

They're ready to be turned into siding boards.

Rollers push the sheets one at a time into saws that slice them to siding dimensions.

Now separate strips, they exit in a cluster and separate.

A paint gun coats the trimmed edges with primer.

This seals any exposed wood from the elements.

After a trip through the oven to dry the primer, the engineered siding boards head towards an inspection station.

Here, a worker scrutinizes each board for blemishes or damage.

If he finds any, the board is rejected.

The siding will be painted postproduction to the homeowner's preference, and once installed, this engineered wood product is sure to fit into the neighborhood.


Scalpels
Oil Paints
British Police Helmets
Ice Axes

Today on "how it's made"...

Scalpels...

Oil paints...

British police helmets...

And ice axes.

The scalpel is the surgeon's trademark tool.

Its short blade is razor-sharp and designed to slice swiftly and cleanly.

This little knife may seem like a simple instrument, but its incredible precision, along with a surgeon's steady hands, is key to a safe and accurate medical procedure.

Scalpel handles are made from rods of stainless steel.

The blades are made of either carbon steel or stainless steel.

They're sterile and designed for one-time use only.

The blade steel is extremely thin, less than .

02 of an inch.

It arrives at the scalpel factory in coiled strips.

The first machine feeds the strips into a press.

A die inside punches out unfinished blades, called blanks.

Blades will vary in size and contour, but they all have the same center slot for attaching the handle.

When you flex a blank, it bends entirely out of shape.

That's because the steel still needs to be tempered.

The blanks pass through a furnace for about 30 seconds.

The heat alters the molecular structure of the metal, hardening it.

Now the blank has the flexibility a scalpel blade requires.

Next, the blanks move through a punching tool that pops them from the strip...

And stacks them on a peg.

A worker threads a metal ring through the slots to keep them together, then sends the whole set of blanks for surface polishing.

This process will restore the metal's original sheen, which was dulled by the heat treatment.

Next, workers visually inspect every blank, discarding any defective ones.

They transfer the blanks from the ring to a metal rod using a gauge to measure out the right number.

From here, the rods are mounted onto grinding machines.

Each one picks up a blank with a magnet, then places it in a holder.

The holder runs the blank against a wheel coated with diamond particles.

This powerful abrasive shapes and sharpens a cutting angle, transforming the blank into a blade.

As the blades come off the grinder, they cling together because the magnet that fed them into the machine magnetized them.

To cancel this effect, a demagnetizing machine passes an electromagnet behind the stacks of blades.

After a thorough washing in an ultrasonic cleaning tank, the blades move on to final inspection.

Wearing protective rubber gear, workers carefully scrutinize the cutting edges, discarding any blade that's less than perfect.

Each and every blade passes through two different inspectors.

In the packaging department, a machine covers each blade with a brown paper strip that contains an anti-corrosion chemical.

This provides extra protection against rust.

A second machine slips each blade into a foil packet, then cuts the packets apart.

Each packet bears the blade model number and tracking code.

As the blades come off the packing machine, an inspector does one last quality check.

Then he counts the blades and boxes them.

Of course, it's critical that surgical blades be sterile, so the boxes go into a cobalt radiation chamber for about six hours.

This obliterates any lingering contaminants.

When the boxes exit the chamber, they're hospital-ready.

In the operating room, it's simply a matter of sliding the blade onto the protruding part of the handle, called the bayonet.

Surgeons make the most of their dexterity by choosing a handle that best fits their hands and best suits the procedure their hands will be performing.

Coming up, mixing up a wide palette of colors at an oil-paint factory.

Oil paint dates back to ancient times when artists mixed minerals and other elements with wax or oil.

In the 1400s, they discovered that linseed oil was ideal as a pigment binder because it allowed blending and glazing in layers.

Centuries later, the colors in those paintings are still vibrant.

Today, many oil paint pigments still come from natural sources, though most are synthetically made.

Factories buy both types of pigments in powdered form to make their paints.

Cuttlefish ink yields brown pigment, lead produces a specific yellow, and mercury ore makes red.

In the past, pigments have also come from stones, tree bark, plant gum, ground up glass, and even arsenic.

This company's research laboratory spends about two years developing a color recipe.

A chemist mixes specific amounts of linseed oil and pigment into a machine called an automatic mueller.

It rubs the ingredients together, dispersing the pigment particles throughout the oil.

For each sample, the formulation is altered slightly in search of the perfect result.

The research team compares the resulting colors and selects the best one.

To produce a color on a large scale, workers start by pumping a specified amount of linseed oil into a mixer.

Then they add the precise amount of pigment.

Most colors are made with just one pigment.

The precise mixing time and speed depends on the kind of pigment formulation being created.

Next, the mixture is spooned into a mill.

Three dispersion rollers rub the ingredients, separating pigment particles and coating them in oil.

The recipe specifies how much pressure the rollers apply, how fast they turn, and how long they work the mixture.

Milling can take hours or even days, depending on the texture of the pigment.

The quality-control lab takes samples from each batch coming off the mill and subjects them to a series of tests.

Technicians scrutinize paint from both sides of the mill to ensure the mixture is being processed evenly.

First, a spread test.

A heavy brass weight goes onto a blob of paint for a prescribed period of time.

Then, inspectors evaluate the volume of color and measure the distance it spread.

If it doesn't spread far enough, it needs more milling.

Next, a dispersion test.

The markings on this gauge indicate the size of the paint's particles in microns, millionths of a meter.

If the particles are too big, the paint hasn't been milled enough.

Finally, inspectors time how long it takes the paint to dry to the touch.

Each color has a specified drying time, ranging from two days to two weeks.

The factory produces a chart that displays its 120 paint colors.

Workers brush each color onto a primer-coated paper.

When the paint dries, they cut each bar into rectangular swatches called chips.

The chart is assembled using this mounting machine.

The bottom has a section for chips of each color.

And the top contains a cardboard chart coated in glue.

As the machine closes, each chip aligns perfectly with its designated spot on the chart.

Back in the production line, the factory packages one color at a time in toothpaste-style tubes that will be finished off with twist caps.

Once the labels go on, the tubes make their way to the filling machine.

There, the tubes have their tops screwed on.

A nozzle squirts in the paint.

Then clamps flatten the edges shut.

A roller folds over the edge to strengthen the seal against squeeze pressure.

Now these oil paints are finally ready to meet the canvas.

When we return, a new twist on the traditional british police helmet.

British bobbies are used to standing tall because of their distinctive hats.

These traditional police helmets are almost a foot high.

That added height can't hurt when you're staring down a bad guy.

Bobbies' helmets have looked the same way for a century and a half.

Today, hatmakers use a metal mold to create that signature shape in fortified plastic.

The mold descends into an oven.

A worker places a sheet of plastic overhead.

He lowers the lid and slides the heated cover over it.

It takes a couple of minutes for the heat to soften the plastic.

The mold rises.

A vacuum below pulls the plastic into shape.

It hardens almost instantly.

A firm tap with a rubber mallet releases the shell from the mold.

A band saw slices away the excess plastic along the brim.

And now the helmet is ready to be covered.

For that, the factory uses water-repellant wool.

The helmet pattern is cut out in two pieces.

These halves are stitched together, making a raised seam, which gives the helmet a smoother line.

The insides of the fabric covers are covered with glue.

Then they're steamed.

A coating of glue is brushed all over the helmet's shell.

The fabric cover has now reached the perfect dampness, making it easier to pull over the glued surface of the plastic helmet shell.

The fabric gets stretched a bit so it'll fit tightly without buckling.

Then, a wooden tool is used to smooth away any remaining air bubbles.

The excess fabric is trimmed away.

Then, rubber piping is sewn around the brim to reinforce it and give it a neater edge.

The prong ends of the helmet's decorative metalwork are dipped in a chalky powder, which mark its positioning on the crown.

Holes are drilled through the markings.

Then the ornament is installed and its prongs are folded against the inside of the helmet.

Next, workers stitch together strips of tape, plastic, and foam to make the helmet's harness and chinstrap.

They fit the harness assembly inside the helmet, then secure it with an industrial stapler.

Metal banding is wrapped around the helmet and pinned down.

Not only does this banding hide the staples, it gives the helmet a snazzier look.

An ornate helmet plate featuring the police department's insignia goes on the front.

Next, a sponge liner is tucked inside the helmet to protect the officer in the event of a blow to the head.

Ventilation holes are punched in the sides.

Now it's time to size the helmet with a special gauge.

Any excess fluff is tweezed away and the wool is brushed to bring up the pile.

Finally, workers attach the label that assures the product meets all specifications.

This police helmet is now ready to report for duty.

It takes about half an hour to make one of these helmets, but it should keep a bobby on the beat safe and stylish for much, much longer.

Up next, ice-axe production begins with a little heat.

When it comes to mountain climbing, the ice axe is a fundamental tool.

Ice axes were invented in the mid 19th century to help mountaineers get a grip on slippery slopes, pull themselves to the summit, and stop a fall.

They're designed for peak performance.

Talk about a steep learning curve.

Climbing with an ice axe takes a bit of practice and a lot of courage.

Production of an ice axe starts with an aluminum rod.

A powerful press bends it into a curve, giving it the basic contour of an ice axe.

It's flattened and shaped in two fiery dies.

Each die has a top and a bottom half, which are lubricated between forgings.

The hot forging transforms the metal rod.

It starts to look a lot more like the shaft of an ice axe.

The long ridges add strength to the metal while other indentations mark where the attachments are to go.

The forging creates a lip around the perimeter of the shaft.

They call this excess metal flash.

This press takes care of it in a snap.

Now, the ice-axe shaft has a cleaner edge and it's quite a bit lighter than the original rod, an advantage when you're toting it up a mountain.

That aluminum rod has gone through quite a few stages, and now it has a whole new profile.

This tub of vibrating ceramic cones will smooth the shaft's rough edges.

Here, a computerized drill makes holes into recesses that were stamped into the shaft earlier.

These holes will be used to attach other parts.

The machine changes the drill bit to a circular blade.

Then, guided by the computer, it cuts a slot for the ice-axe pick.

Next, the saw moves to the other end and thins out the area where the handle will be attached.

Using another drill bit, the saw carves out a hole for the adjustable finger rest.

Here's a shaft that's already been milled and drilled compared with one yet to undergo the process.

The shaft gets a protective coating.

Then, it's time to bring all the pieces of the ice axe together.

A worker applies epoxy to the inside of the rubber handle and slides it onto the shaft.

The handle has an open end.

He beads a little more epoxy onto it and inserts a steel spike.

The spike is then riveted to the ice-axe shaft.

This spike will come in very handy on the mountain side.

Plunging it into a snowy slope can help a climber maintain his or her balance on a slippery uphill trek.

Next, the adz slides into the slot at the head of the shaft.

Climbers use this tool to chop steps in hard snow and ice.

The worker secures the adz with nuts and bolts, and then he installs the pick.

This hooked and jagged attachment will help get the climber up a mountain of hard ice.

The bolts are tightened with a torque wrench.

After all, a solid job here could be a lifesaver.

And finally, the adjustable finger rest is screwed to the shaft just above the handle.

And now you have a tool that can help you scale new heights.


Today on "how it's made"...

Hearing aids.

We're turning up the volume for this one.

3-d puzzles-- a traditional pastime enters a new dimension.

Rubber mats-- we bring you a step-by-step explanation.

And toilets-- this fascinating report leaves us flushed with pride.

When you stop and listen to all the sounds around you, you suddenly realize how easy it is to take your hearing for granted.

If you ever develop a hearing disorder, you'll undoubtedly feel the loss.

Thankfully, though, hearing aids are tinier and more effective than ever before.

Loss of hearing causes a serious handicap, but, happily, it can be remedied thanks to hearing aids.

But before fabricating the aid, the degree of hearing loss must be precisely measured with this apparatus called an audiometer.

So they make a mold of the ear canal.

To protect the eardrum, an autoblock is inserted.

The next step is to pour in a silicon impression-making material.

It solidifies and is then removed from the ear.

This congealed mass representing the ear canal is then soaked in warm wax to obtain a positive imprint.

Then the silicon container is filled.

The silicon hardens in only 10 minutes.

The hardened silicon block is removed, and the excess of the imprint is trimmed away so that only the essential part is retained.

The imprint must slip easily into the ear.

It's now the molding stage for the hearing aid.

Acrylic is poured into the mold before placing it into this ultraviolet oven.

Without emitting any heat, this oven hardens the acrylic.

Here is the raw prosthesis without its electronic components.

This plan details the electric circuit of the amplifier.

Holes are pierced for the volume control.

These components are tiny.

Here is the volume control...

The miniature microphone that captures sounds...

And the earphone, which functions as a speaker.

This tiny braided wire of seven conductors is soldered to the amplifier and other parts of the prosthesis with pewter.

The hybrid circuit is inserted into a silicon casing, which assures its protection.

Then the wires are soldered to the speaker.

And they verify the proper functioning of the volume control.

A hearing aid must be very discreet.

That's why they cut the excess with a diamond disk.

They also remove the roughness with fine sandpaper.

The holes we see here are used to vent air from the earphone.

This silicone tube is used to make the vent.

Acrylic is poured onto the tube to form a tunnel.

Ultraviolet light is used to harden the acrylic.

Afterwards, the tube is removed.

This hole is used to position the fastener, a small wire which allows for removing the hearing aid from the ear.

Then the battery is installed.

Only a few parts, such as the microphone, remain to be put in place.

Then everything is delicately assembled into the interior of the prosthesis.

The two parts of the hearing aid are then glued together.

Ultraviolet hardens the glue.

The plate used to position the prosthesis components is cut away with the drill.

Then the hearing aid is manually polished to make it perfectly smooth and comfortable.

The prosthesis is now completed.

There remains one important step-- verifying its electroacoustic characteristic.

It's with this analyzer that they validate that the hearing aid conforms to the original prescription.

These minute prostheses allow us to solve the main hearing problems.

Microfabrication of a single unit requires a little more than two days of work.

Remember spending lazy afternoons putting together simple 60-piece jigsaw puzzles?

Well, put that image out of your mind, because today's sophisticated puzzles can have 1,500 3-d pieces that go up, down, and even sideways.

Are you up for the challenge?

Flat puzzles are well known by everyone, but 3-d puzzles present a different challenge.

These 3-dimensional puzzles are first conceived with computer software.

Good blades are needed to cut puzzle pieces.

Here are the blades for the master die which will cut out printed sheets of different models.

This rubber will be used to eject the die.

The master cutting die is unique to each puzzle.

It is the specific pattern used to make the puzzle.

They measure it meticulously to obtain a perfect register.

It's imperative that the die not move during the cutting, otherwise the pieces would be cut at the wrong points, so they very firmly secure it in place.

The carbon of the die is positioned.

It's somewhat like printing the master.

Alignment is again verified, a highly important step which assures the quality of the final product.

Finally, they install this large metallic plate, which is the cutting base.

It will be on this surface that the master die will strike.

Once measurements are finished, the drawer of the die is slid into place.

This press cuts the pattern seen on the puzzle.

Here's how it works.

The sheets, or printed cardboards, go into the drawer one by one, where they are cut according to the master model.

We clearly see the press making the cut in the puzzle sheet.

The cut sheets pile up on one another.

At this checkpoint, they verify the precision of the cut.

They make sure that every piece is correctly shaped.

Now they go to the foam support of the puzzle.

This guillotine is used to cut the polyethylene sheets onto which they will glue the cut images.

Foam sheets are inserted into this laminator heated to 450 degrees.

The sheet with the design on it is glued onto the foam with a thermosetting adhesive.

Now they glue the printed sheet onto the foam sheet.

Once the adhesion is finished, the puzzles are stacked on one another, and they proceed to the unbuckling operation.

By pulling, they remove the surplus cuttings.

The same design is printed several times on a sheet, so they must separate each puzzle.

This step is called the reduction of the models.

Now the pieces have to be separated.

This decorticator handles this task and sends the pieces down a chute.

Packing cartons arrive already made up, and the puzzle pieces are placed in their boxes.

No less than 15,000 puzzles are produced here each day.

Since it began operations, the company has created more than 300 different puzzle models from quite simple ones to much more complex designs.

The largest of them contain a total of more than 3,000 pieces.

And you need real patience for this one.

Ever wonder what happens to the millions of used tires we throw out every year?

Well, you'll be relieved to know that burning tires is a thing of the past.

Today's tires are often given new life as rubber mats.

Some are even big enough to cover whole arenas.

Now, that's recycling.

Used tires are a real source of pollution.

This pile represents about 100,000 of them.

At any rate, these tires will have a second life.

They'll be recycled to make rubber mats.

Each day in this factory, they recycle 15,000 tires into mats.

Tires have to be reduced to little granules, but first this conveyor feeds the tires into the washer.

Tires are washed with a water-based biodegradable preparation.

Then they're sent to the shredder.

The shredder has two rows of large teeth.

These grind up the tires into pieces.

This shredder is able to cut up almost 1,000 tires an hour.

They come out as fairly good-sized pieces of tires, which are then shredded a second time.

Metal is magnetically separated from the rubber, and the metal pieces are recycled at another factory.

Other components of the tires, such as fiberglass and nylon, also have to be separated.

They use a sifter to get out unwanted rubbish.

Recuperated rubber particles purged of foreign materials measure about 1/10 of an inch.

Some 16 tons of tire particles are piled up in this recycling depot.

But the particles are still too large to be used.

They're sent to a secondary shredder supply tank, where they'll be reduced even further.

This tractor feeds the secondary shredder.

Grinding action produces a kind of rubber powder.

The powder is spread out on these enormous molds.

This mold has a length of 23 feet and a width of 4 feet.

Thickness varies according to the product being made.

The molds filled with rubber powder are stored in this loading magazine of the press.

Once full, the molds are sent to the rubber-mat press.

Here's the mat press.

The powder has to be cooked at a very high temperature for about 30 minutes.

Cooking time depends on the product being made.

The cooked mat goes to the unmolding unit before being sent off to cool.

The rubber mats are still extremely hot.

They're cooled with jets of water for a period of several minutes.

The cooled mats can now be sent to the next department.

This conveyor in the cutting center positions the mat before it's cut.

The mat is vibrated to eliminate any surplus water.

Each rubber mat is now cut up into three pieces.

The cut mats are then stacked into a pile and stored before being shipped.

The company also makes mudguards.

These are fabricated the same way as the preceding mats.

After having been cooled in water, but while they're still warm, they remove the surplus rubber.

This operation is called "notching".

Hard rubber rings are also produced at this facility with the same fabrication methods and, as always, from old, used tires.

Over a 12-hour period, this facility makes no less than 12,000 rubber mats from old, recycled tires.

This translates into good news for our environment.

We tend not to put much thought into this humblest of household appliances as long as it keeps doing what it was built to do.

But like most of the machines we've invented to do our dirty work, we may take it for granted, but it's next to impossible to imagine life without the toilet.

The first public restrooms appeared in ancient rome when the emperor vespasian built latrines.

Such public urinals became widely known as vespasiennes by 1840.

In 1775, the invention of a water-flush system created toilets somewhat resembling today's convenience.

The valve and siphon were added in 1784 and the septic tank in 1896.

A toilet is an everyday object whose fabrication requires several days of work.

It involves assembling several molds called "tools".

Each new product requires the design of a master plaster mold from which they will produce a plastic tool.

This latter will be used to create plaster duplicates used as production molds.

The plaster production mold of a toilet is made from six different tools which have to be assembled.

Their life-span is only two months.

The process begins with a mixture of water and plaster according to a precise recipe.

Then the liquid is poured into this filling hole of the tool.

Once the plaster hardens, they can proceed with unmolding.

They strike the end at the junction of the plaster mold and the tool with a rubber hammer so as not to damage the plaster.

Pieces are gently assembled.

The toilet softly takes its shape.

It is in this same mold that they will later color the clay.

Then they install tensioning straps.

Little blocks are inserted between the mold and the strap to increase the tension.

The mold will soon be filled with liquid, and they thus prevent any distortion.

Here a new recipe is being prepared.

This time it's a slurry, a composite of clay and silica.

This preparation is spread out over 48 hours.

Now they install the core, the upper part of the mold.

They can now proceed with the filling.

This copper distribution pipe connected to the tank containing the slurry permits the filling of several molds at a time.

They need about 45 pounds of the mix per bowl mold.

After an hour, the slurry has attained a thickness of 4/10 of an inch.

The plug is pulled to allow the excess slurry to run out.

They can now unmold the still-fragile piece.

This thicker slurry is used to adhere these two pieces together.

They cut the holes and unmold the ensemble.

The toilet is now molded.

Then, to obtain a perfect appearance, they remove the little fillet formed by the surplus adhesive slurry.

The toilets air-dry for 36 hours, then in a warm-air dryer for 12 hours.

Finishing must be impeccable.

They carefully sand the surface to make it perfectly smooth.

A vacuum draws up the dust.

Then, with a jet of compressed air, dust and debris are blown away.

Bowls are hand-painted in a special room.

As for the water tanks, they are painted by an automated robot.

This truck carries the different parts to the final fabrication stage-- baking.

The toilets remain in this oven at the very high temperature of 2,150 degrees for 23 hours.

It takes this long to fuse the clay and silicone.

The paint then becomes hard and shiny, and it's all done.

The toilets and the different bowls now take on shapes more elegant than in the past, but the fabrication of each one of them will have the same basic construction steps involving 45 pounds of slurry and almost 4 days of labor.


Motorcycle Sidecars
Frozen French Toast
Refrigerator Compressors
Superchargers

A sidecar is a passenger attachment that bolts to a motorcycle.

Sidecars are aftermarket products, meaning a separate company--  not the motorcycle maker-- manufactures and markets them.

You buy a model that's compatible with your motorcycle.

A motorcycle sidecar carries one passenger or two, if they're small children or pets.

Manufacturers typically produce several models, designed to fit the most popular bikes on the market.

This one has a fiberglass body, surrounded by a steel perimeter chassis.

Workers construct the chassis using several sections of steel tubing.

They form each section to the required shape on a hydraulic bender, measuring as they go.

There are sections in the front and back, along the sides, and underneath.

Once the sections are each bent to specifications, workers clamp them into a jig, which aligns them all in the correct configuration.

The smaller-diameter sections fit into adjoining larger-diameter ones.

Once all the parts are in position, a welder fuses them.

The structure of the perimeter chassis is now complete and ready for a coat of baked-on powder paint to prevent the steel from rusting.

Next, workers mount the suspension and wheel to the chassis, then install a fiberglass mudguard that has a reflector, a taillight, and a turn signal.

They make the sidecar's fiberglass body with upper and lower molds, first painting each one with gel coat, a polyester resin that creates a smooth and shiny surface over fiberglass.

When the gel coat dries, about 45 minutes later, they lay fiberglass mat over it, then saturate the fiberglass with resin.

They lay two fiberglass layers in most parts of the mold and a few extra layers in areas that need a bit more strength to support attached components.

In the lower mold, they re-enforce the floor with plywood and, in specific locations, bond in steel mounting plates for bolting components to the fiberglass later on.

24 hours later, once the resin has cured, they extract the upper- and lower-body halves from their respective molds, trim the rough edges, and join the halves on the inside with more fiberglass and resin.

Then they place the now-assembled body inside the perimeter chassis to check the alignment.

But they don't connect the chassis just yet.

First, to snazz up the body, they mount a nose badge made of stainless steel and anodized aluminum.

Then they attach aluminum strips to the nose badge, affixing them to the fiberglass with rivets.

They gently tap the strips with a mallet, shaping them to the contour of the body.

Then they set a rubber insert into each strip.

This adds a decorative touch, while hiding the rivets.

Next, the sidecar's windscreen.

It's made of polycarbonate, an ultra-thin yet strong type of plastic, encased in a durable aluminum frame.

They finish off the body by installing carpeting and an upholstered vinyl seat.

Workers position the sidecar so that its wheel is turned slightly inward.

This ensures the bike and sidecar handle correctly.

Then they bolt the chassis to the bike frame with four steel arms-- two at the front and two at the back.

Next they fit a steering damper.

This prevents the sidecar from causing a wobble in the steering.

The final step is to connect the electrical wiring to the lights and the mudguard.

The perimeter chassis is now ready to receive the body.

They thread bolts into the holes of those mounting plates that were bonded in with the fiberglass during the molding process-- two bolts at the front and two at the back, through the floor.

With that, this motorcycle sidecar is ready to hit the road.

Love french toast for breakfast but don't have the time or patience to make it from scratch?

That's why there's ready-made frozen french toast that you simply pop into the toaster-- no cracking eggs, pouring milk, or dipping bread required.

Just pour on the syrup and enjoy.

A breakfast favorite for generations, it's easy to get sentimental about french toast.

To get that traditional taste without the traditional mess, there's frozen french toast.

They go from your freezer to your breakfast table in just minutes.

French toast starts with freshly baked bread.

A local bakery supplies this factory with custom-made 16-inch-long loaves.

When those fresh-baked loaves arrive, workers load them horizontally onto a conveyor belt.

The belt winds its way to the first machine on the production line--  the slicer.

The slicer has several vertical blades, crossed in a figure eight over two drums that drive them.

Because each blade crisscrosses, it cuts two slices at once.

For this production run, the slicer cuts each loaf into 28 slices almost half an inch thick.

At the output end of the slicer, workers discard the two end pieces.

However, these heels, as they're called, aren't wasted.

They're used for animal feed.

Workers load the cut loaves into side-by-side vertical columns.

The slices drop down onto a wire conveyor belt.

The spacing between rows and slices is perfectly positioned to align with the upcoming stations, which will transform them from bread to frozen french toast.

First, the slicer enters the batter station, which bathes their underside in a mixture of eggs, milk, water, and sugar.

The slices then pass under a batter waterfall, which thoroughly coats their top surface.

The slices exit the batter station onto a wire belt, which feeds them onto cast-iron griddle plates.

Gas flames underneath heat the plates to 275 degrees fahrenheit.

After several seconds, the underside is cooked, and a row of automated spatulas, appropriately called flippers, turns the slices over to cook the reverse side.

Seconds later, the fully cooked french toast slices are removed from the griddle plates...

And deposited onto a conveyor belt.

All of the single-file conveyors now converge on a larger conveyor belt, which transports the slices into the freezer.

The temperature inside--  negative 4 degrees fahrenheit.

After a frosty 23-minute ride, the french toast is completely frozen.

It exits the freezer, ready to be sorted into packaging portions.

For this order, workers stack the slices in fours.

Each package will contain two stacks.

The packaging machine inserts each portion into a continuous plastic-film pouch.

Then, at both ends of each portion, it simultaneously heat-seals the film and cuts the pouch free.

An automated arm picks up each pouch and inserts it, either into small retail cartons destined for supermarkets or into large boxes for bulk orders to cafeterias, hospital kitchens, and restaurants.

All packaging, warehousing, and shipping occurs in temperature-controlled facilities to keep the product frozen until it's time to toast this breakfast tradition.

Behind every chilled beverage, there's a compressor, a crucial component in refrigeration systems.

It pressurizes and pumps refrigerant to the condenser so the cooling process can begin.

With a well-functioning compressor, a refrigerator is more likely to keep its cool.

Behind the glossy exterior of a supermarket refrigerator, there's a substantial compressor doing its part to chill the merchandise.

They often remanufacture old compressors to save resources and money.

They immerse the cast-iron body in a chemical bath to remove the grime and rinse off the residue with hot water.

That old compressor already looks a lot less tired.

A worker polishes the cylinder bore with an abrasive pad attached to an air drill.

He sands the surfaces around the openings so that all the parts will fit without leaking.

Smaller parts bounce around in a vibratory bowl with steel pellets and cleaning compound for a good scouring.

Out of the bowl, a worker places a valve plate on a magnetized turntable to keep it in one place, as a grinder smoothes the surface.

This makes it look new.

He screws two new valves to the plate.

These valves will open and close to move refrigerant in and out of the compressor.

The next worker assembles the terminal plate for the compressor's electrical motor.

Most of the components have been reconditioned, including the lugs for the wires.

He slots the lugs in the terminal plate from the back and flips the plate around.

He slides new rubber seals onto all the lugs...

And then installs rubber insulators and metal washers.

He secures the lugs with screws, using a precisely calibrated torque wrench.

The compressor's original crankshaft has also been thoroughly cleaned.

As it now spins in a chuck, a worker polishes it until it's completely smooth.

This will allow bearings and connecting rods to operate efficiently.

He measures the shaft to confirm that the circumference is right.

With many parts now reconditioned and partially assembled, they're ready to reconstruct the compressor.

The worker installs new bearings and the refurbished crankshaft into the compressor body.

He inserts the connecting-rod and piston assemblies.

Moved by the crankshaft, these pistons will compress the refrigerant gas to pump it through the system.

He slides the rotor part of the motor into the compressor, and it links up to the crankshaft.

He aligns the rotor to the crankshaft with a long pin.

He secures the rotor to the hub with a substantial bolt.

The next part is the stator.

It's the magnetized mechanism that drives the rotor and, subsequently, the crankshaft.

He connects protruding wires to the lugs on the terminal board we saw reassembled earlier.

He sets the terminal board flush to the compressor and bolts it to it.

He fits the valve plate on the cylinders, adjacent to the terminal plate.

He places the cylinder head over the valve plate and bolts it to it.

The remanufacture of this compressor is complete.

To test the compressor, they pump dry nitrogen through it.

A machine measures the suction and discharge pressure, as well as the electrical draw.

And still running dry nitrogen through it, they immerse the compressor in water and check for bubbles that would indicate leaks.

They make repairs if needed and then spray the compressor with enamel paint to protect it from rust.

Remanufacturing this refrigeration compressor has taken 24 hours.

It's given it a whole new lease on life.

An engine naturally takes in air from the atmosphere to burn the fuel with oxygen.

If you're looking to give your car a boost, a supercharger compresses air and force-feeds it into the engine.

The increased mass of oxygen burns more fuel, giving the engine more power.

A supercharger is particularly popular in drag-car racing.

It attaches with a belt to the engine's crankshaft, and, voilà, the car's on steroids.

They begin with a plate that forms the rear of the supercharger's aluminum housing.

Using a press that applies several tons of pressure, they install two steel ball bearings.

These will enable the supercharger's two rotors to spin, which is what compresses air and forces it into the engine.

After bolting the steel cap over each bearing, workers insert steel dowels into holes along the perimeter of the plate.

These dowels, which they now fully seat with the press, will align with receiving holes on the adjoining housings.

They take the plate that forms the front end of the housing and press a steel ball bearing into it.

This bearing will enable the supercharger's input shaft to rotate and, by doing so, spin the rotors.

They press a rubber-lip seal on top of the bearing to keep oil in and dirt out.

Next, they apply a retaining clip to hold the seal in position.

Using the press, they seat the clip in its groove.

Next, they insert the input shaft.

Its flanged end will protrude out of the supercharger, where a belt and pulley will rotate it so that it turns gears which spin the rotors.

A computer-guided mill machines each rotor out of extruded aluminum.

Once both rotors are ready, workers take the central section of the supercharger housing and apply sealant to one end of it.

They affix the rear plate containing the two bearings for the rotors.

They secure the plate to the main housing using socket-headed screws, which they tighten with an air driver.

Flipping the housing to the other side now, they install the first of the two rotors, inserting its shaft into the first bearing in the just-attached rear plate.

Then they install the second rotor, inserting its shaft into the second bearing in the plate.

The second rotor lies perpendicular to the first.

This positioning allows the spinning rotors to capture air at the top of the housing, compress it, and force it downward to the bottom of the housing.

They close up the housing with another plate which also contains bearings for the rotor shafts.

However, on this end, the shafts protrude beyond the bearings in order to receive gears.

Then to this, they'll attach the housing containing the input shaft, which, driven by the belt and pulley, rotates these gears to spin the rotors.

Before continuing further, the team puts the supercharger through a performance test.

The machine, called a dynamometer, assesses the ratio of speed to air flow to ensure the rotors are compressing air the way they should be and therefore outputting the required boost.

If the rotors pass the test with flying colors, workers then hand-polish the aluminum housing to a shiny finish.

A key component in the supercharger is a feeler gauge-- that fan-shaped part shown on the lower left.

It ensures that the distance between the rotors is correct, which is critical, because if the rotors are too far apart, they don't compress air adequately.

And if they're too close together, they jam.

It's the customer who, when installing the supercharger, attaches a pulley to the end of the input shaft, then a belt onto the pulley.

The other end of the belt loops around the car engine's crankshaft pulley, connecting the supercharger to the engine for a mega boost of power.


Power Steering Pumps
Asian Bowl Meals
Walking Canes

In the first half of the 20th century, power steering was not an option.

Prototypes were too expensive for production.

During world war ii, the british and american armies began to use power steering in heavy vehicles like armored cars, and auto makers soon began adding it to passenger vehicles.

These hydraulic steering pumps are the steering muscle in muscle cars, providing a power assist to give the driver more control.

Using computer software, manufacturers design the pumps to fit specific classes of vehicles.

They print a plastic model using a 3-d printer.

This is a time-lapse video of the process.

The designer removes the plastic model and he sends it, along with the computer design, to a casting facility, which produces aluminum pump-housing parts.

Back at the factory, a worker mounts 12 of the castings in a machine with computer-controlled tooling.

He activates the system, and it moves the rack of castings into position.

The tools machine the face of the castings.

They bore center-bearing holes and drill threaded holes for bolts.

This is precision work, which will now be double-checked by a device known as a coordinate measuring machine.

A worker clamps the pump housing in the machine.

Then, a ruby-tipped probe scans its dimensions.

The machine analyzes the information.

It verifies that every part of the housing meets the precise specifications.

With that confirmation, he unclamps the part.

This is the pump housing in the various stages of production.

Other tools turn a solid aluminum dowel into a fitting for the pump's pressure bore.

They sculpt the circumference and carve a complex geometry in the center for controlling the flow of power steering fluid.

Another tool carves the thread to screw the fitting into the pressure bore, and the final one drills the fluid bypass hole.

A blue anodized coating protects it from corrosion.

A worker now locks the pump housing in a honing machine.

The machine floods the pressure relief bore with lubricant as the stone hones the inner diameter to a precise tolerance.

He then transfers the pump housing to a press.

He inserts a bearing and shaft in the center bore.

He places an aluminum tool over the bearing and shaft to align them correctly as he manually presses them into the bore.

Once the bearing has been solidly entrenched, he removes the tool.

He inserts a metal snap ring in a groove to retain the bearing and shaft.

He turns the power steering pump over an installs o-rings to seal the pressure section.

Then the worker installs the cam ring and the rotor with the veins.

As the rotor spins, the veins will move in and out, collecting hydraulic fluid.

This process adds pressure, taking the load off the steering wheel.

The worker installs this critical sub-assembly in the pump housing.

He screws the device in place in the four corners.

He turns the power steering pump over and seals the end of the pressure bore with an aluminum plug and copper washer.

He now tucks the pressure relief valve in the open part of the pressure bore.

He secures it with the special flow fitting we saw machined earlier on.

He tightens the fitting with a torque wrench.

He turns the power steering pump onto its side.

He attaches a fitting to the intake port for the hydraulic fluid.

The power steering pump is now equipped with all the working parts.

Here's a look at the transformation.

A display model with a cutout offers a peak inside.

At the test station, a technician makes all the connections and runs it as if it was in an actual racecar.

A computer measures its performance and confirms that it meets all the technical requirements.

The power steering pump is now ready for the twists and turns of professional racing.

Across asia, rice bowl meals are an enduring tradition.

By combining protein and vegetable elements with rice in a bowl, people have a meal.

It's asian comfort food, and somehow it just tastes better in a bowl.

And people around the world are discovering the appeal of these one-bowl meals.

Asian bowl meals start with the rice.

Then people add whatever they want.

At food bars like this, there's any number of choices.

The bowls can be served up fast, and the food is healthy.

Because there are many possible combinations, these one-bowl meals never get boring.

Preparations start with the rice.

This food worker measures enough for 40 portions.

After rinsing the grains repeatedly, he adds it to a rice cooker.

He then measures the water for cooking.

He adds it to the cooker.

It will steam the grains so they cook uniformly for one hour.

While the rice is cooking, the food worker then pours peeled garlic cloves into a food processor.

He adds a half cup of vegetable oil.

The garlic will flavor several dishes in the asian food bar.

The food processor chops the garlic to a fine consistency.

Using a mandolin vegetable slicer, he slices slivers of carrots.

Along with chopped onions, the carrots will enhance the flavor of fried rice.

He now removes some rice from the cooker, in order to make fried rice.

He separates the grains so they'll fry more uniformly.

The food worker is now ready to fry.

He heats the wok to a very high temperature.

He adds cooking oil, and it starts to sizzle.

He tosses in the carrot slivers, chopped onion, garlic and frozen peas.

He constantly stirs the ingredients, and the flavors sweeten and deepen.

He turns down the heat a bit an adds the rice.

He mixes the rice with the other ingredients as the cooking continues at a slightly lower temperature.

He measures the temperature.

For food safety reasons, it needs to be over 143 degrees fahrenheit.

The food worker pours soy sauce onto the hot wok.

It trickles down to permeate the rice, adding flavor and color.

That completes the fried rice component of the food bar.

Next up are the vegetable and protein choices.

The food worker cubes sushi-grade tuna.

It will be marinated with a spicy saucy shortly.

He places the tuna in a food bar container.

He peels cucumber and then juliennes it.

The cucumber will be a raw food choice that will offset the strong flavor of the tuna.

The food worker then prepares the tuna's spicy marinade.

He adds chili sauce and a smaller amount of chili oil to mayonnaise.

It's hot stuff.

A seaweed salad dish is another refreshing choice that will cool the palate.

He adds the chili mayonnaise to the tuna.

And he turns up the heat a little more with some extra chili oil.

A thorough mixing completely saturates the raw fish with the spicy sauce.

Next, the food worker prepares the dressing for a cabbage salad.

He starts with a white miso paste.

A generous amount of soy sauce follows.

Sushi vinegar and vegetable oil are the next ingredients.

After adding some sesame oil, he blends all the components.

He coats the shredded cabbage with the miso dressing.

He sprinkles black sesame seeds onto the cabbage salad.

Teriyaki beef is the next option.

The main ingredients are shaved filet steak, chopped ginger, and shredded onion.

The food worker sautés the onion and ginger to provide a flavor base.

He adds the shaved steak, and as it cooks, it takes up the essence of the onion and ginger.

The soy-based teriyaki sauce provides the final layer of flavor.

With this dish now complete, it's time for the fun part-- mixing and matching components for the asian food bowl.

There was a time when an elegant walking cane was a status symbol for fashionable gentlemen.

Today, a cane is no longer considered an accessory, but rather a utilitarian medical aid for people with mobility issues.

However, one can still find canes which combine both function and fashion.

Walking canes can indeed be stylish, with straight or crook handles made of exotic wood or bone, elegant knob handles, or elaborate figurative handles.

This family enterprise has been hand-crafting walking canes since 1909.

Making a crook handle requires bending the handle material.

After heating a curved steel form in a fire, workers insert a square stick of ebony in a steel spring and mount it on the central axis of the machine.

The clamp the machine's guide wheel against the form, then clamp the part of the stick that will remain straight.

Using their body weight, the worker forces the machine's lever forward, wrapping the top part of the stick around the hot, curved form.

It's critical to do this slowly to prevent the wood from snapping.

Workers then lock the bent stick against the form with a brace...

And remove it from the machine.

They set it aside for a week.

One week later, they remove the brace and spring and mount the curved stick on a lathe.

As the stick spins, a carriage moves a saw down the straight part of the cane, known as the shaft, reducing the diameter and rounding it out.

This is the shaft before and after this step.

A worker runs the handle against a coarse grit sanding belt to pare it down and begin rounding it out.

He uses a router to refine the shape and works on the harder-to-access inner part of the curve.

Once the handle is rounded, and its diameter equal to that of the shaft, he performs a final fine sanding.

Then he polishes the entire cane with polishing compound against a cotton buffing wheel.

Slowly but surely, this makes the ebony sleek and lustrous.

All wooden canes--  these here are made of maple-- warp a bit during woodworking.

Another worker heats the cane to make the wood flexible, then inserts it in a v-shaped holder and peers down the length of the shaft to assess the direction of the deformity.

Then he manually straightens out the cane.

These canes undergo a final step to add a decorative feature.

A worker sands off some wood on the crook handle, creating a flat, oval surface.

He applies glue, then he adheres a piece of cow horn.

Once the glue dries, he grinds the horn flush with the surrounding wood.

The result is a horn inlay.

Wooden canes also need protection against moisture and wear.

The factory submerges them in varnish for a half hour, so that the varnish deeply penetrates the pores of the wood.

Hanging the canes to dry would leave varnish drip marks, so the factory uses this ingenious pulley-driven contraption that dates back to the 1900s.

With its wood wheels and leather belts, the machine continuously rotates the canes to prevent the wet varnish from dripping as it air dries.

That's how to make a wooden crook-handled cane.

As you'll see next, fancier walking canes require additional steps.

Whether it's decorated with ornately carved wood, sleek horn or gleaning metal, brandishing a fancy walking cane is like wearing a bold pair of eyeglasses.

What might otherwise be a bland necessity can be elevated to a fashion statement.

Elegant canes can have horn or knob handles, or silver-plated figural handles.

The figural ones are molded two at a time.

After placing a screw mechanism in each cavity, a worker closes the mold and places it in a centrifuge machine.

As the mold spins, he ladles pewter into a funnel that feeds the channels leading into the mould cavities.

The centrifugal force shoots the pewter onto the cavity walls in an even layer, where it cools and solidifies in about five minutes.

Then he stops the machine and removes the mould.

The worker opens the mold and extracts the two pewter castings, each with it's screw mechanism securely embedded.

One is a cobra handle.

The other is a dog and boar handle.

They require a bit of refinement, so the next step is to remove the excess metal with a rotating wire brush.

A worker then shines up the surface with some polishing compound and a cloth buffing wheel.

He washes off the polishing compound and silver-plates the pewter.

The handle will top an equally elegant ebony shaft.

A worker places the square stick of ebony in a lathe, which rounds it.

The shaft goes through several sanding and polishing steps.

Then a worker drills a two-inch-deep hole in the top of it.

He puts some glue in the hole and screws in the handle.

If silver-plated cobras aren't your style, how about a handle made of white cow horn?

First, a worker heats all but the tip of the horn in a fire.

This destroy the nerves in the bone inside the horn's shell.

This horn will be shaped into a crooked handle using the same bending machine the workers use for wood crook handles.

The base of the horn is hot, so they use a small block of wood as a buffer.

After clamping the machine's guide wheel against the middle of the horn, they use their body weight to move the lever forward, and wrap the top half of the horn against the curved form.

Before heating the horn, the worker drilled a small hole through its tip.

Now he inserts a thin steel wire through that hole and ties the wire tightly around the opposite side to hold the horn to the round form.

He sets it aside for a week.

A horn handle undergoes the same multi-step sanding process as a wood handle, however, a worker drills a hole into the bottom and screws in an aluminum rod.

This makes the handle easier to hold while sanding.

The worker removes the final traces of the outer layer with a router and finalizes the crook's shape.

He removes the handle from the metal rod and finishes it off with a fine sanding.

The horn surface is now as smooth as silk.

He then polishes the handle on a cotton buffing wheel using a polishing compound specially formulated for horn.

That brings out the color and sheen.

Then the worker screws and exotic-wood shaft into the same hole used for the metal rod.

This fashionable cane, which has taken 4-6 hours to craft, is ready to be modeled on the walkway.


Unlike a grand piano, an upright piano is vertical, so you can place it against a wall.

Uprights come in various heights.

The taller ones have longer strings and a larger soundboard, so their sound is closer to that of a grand piano.

Around four feet tall, this is the largest upright piano on the market.

It's designed for those who lack the budget or space of a grand piano.

A piano technician spends several days calibrating the pre-assembled action stack.

It has 88 wooden hammers with heads wrapped in felt.

Pressing a piano key causes the corresponding hammer to strike a particular string.

The string vibrates, producing a specific musical note.

A damper stops the string vibration a split second later, ending the sound.

Each key has two slots called mortises.

They are lined with a felt bushing to protect the wood from wear.

At the back of each key, there's a height adjustment rod called a capstan.

Each key has an embedded lead disc.

This disc equalizes the pressure that's needed to play an individual key.

Without this pressure equalization, you would have to press harder on the bass keys because their hammers and strings are heavier.

The soundboard is already installed in the piano cabinet under a cast iron frame.

The technician checks the clearance between soundboard components.

He verifies that each steel string is properly wound to a tuning pin at the top, loops over a hitch pin at the bottom, and passes over a wooden bridge in between.

After making necessary adjustments, he measures the pressure of each string over the bridge, a critical factor producing fine tone.

then he tunes below the bridge, adjusting string tension as needed.

the technician assembles the keyboard by aligning each key with corresponding pins on the key frame.

He uses round spacers called punchings to equalize height so the black and white keys are level.

He checks the tightness of each key's bushings.

If a key needs to be loosened, he compresses the bushing and widens the mortise.

Then he installs the action stack directly above the keyboard, attaching it to bolts mounted on the cast iron frame.

He presses each key a few times to make sure it functions properly.

If it doesn't, he adjusts the capstan to better strike the key.

Then he connects the pedals to the components they control.

The right pedal pulls the dampers away from the strings to let the sound continue.

The left pedal draws the hammers closer to the strings, which reduces the volume of the sound.

Then several more calibrations-- each hammer to make sure it moves correct, each backcheck so that it doesn't rebound and strike again.

And finally, each key is checked to ensure that the pressing depth is identical across the keyboard.

If a key needs adjustment, he adds or removes punchings.

They come in a range of thicknesses from heavy felt to ultra-thin tissue paper.

He plays with different combinations until the pressing depth is perfect.

now he strikes a tuning fork to sound an "a" and tunes the corresponding "a" key.

Then he tunes all the other keys in relation to that note, tweaking each tuning pin with a special wrench.

an assembler completes the piano by mounting the remaining sections of the cabinet.

This cabinet is made of wood and laminates, coated in high-gloss polyester resin-- an elegant yet simple exterior, enclosing very complex internal workings.

Flags bring strangers together to support a cause or a nation.

For many centuries, a flag fluttering above the fighting was a visible communication signal.

Flags eventually became patriotic symbols away from the battlefield.

And today there is one for every country and almost every cause.

Rippling in the breeze, flags have a kinetic energy that draws people to them.

At this factory, they make flags from special polyester.

It's extra strong, but it's also translucent to make the design visible from both sides.

A machine unwinds the fabric over rollers that pull it straight and tight.

It then enters a digital printer.

The first printing head lays down the image and a second one deepens it.

Printing in two steps keeps the dyes from running.

The employee transfers the printed fabric to the next machine.

He loops it through guide rollers and secures the end.

The flag material travels over a larger cylinder that's heated to 419 degrees.

This bakes or fixates the dye into the fabric.

At the wash line, a worker aligns the flag with a sheet of leader fabric and trims the end.

A sewing machine stitches the fabrics together in a chain lock configuration.

This seam is tough enough to withstand a series of wash cycles.

The first wash removes any excess dye that wasn't fixated on the fabric.

They add special chemicals to this wash because ordinary soap isn't strong enough.

The second bath contains chemicals that neutralize the cleaning substances.

Finally, the fabric travels through a rinse station to remove the residual chemicals.

Pressurized rollers wring out the water.

The damp fabric travels over steamed heated cylinders that dry and iron the fabric.

The flag material winds around rollers before reaching the cutting table.

The worker first cuts out the color code printed on the side of the fabric.

She uses a spectrometer to confirm that the colors are correct and haven't faded during the wash.

Then she cuts out the flags using a pair of industrial scissors.

The polyester material is strong and doesn't unravel or fray during the cutting.

The next worker stitches a sleeve onto the fabric for the banner hardware.

She also hems the other three sides.

At another station, a machine installs a grommet on the front and a washer on the back to make an eyelet.

An employee inserts a fiberglass rod in the sleeve and threads a bungee cord through the eyelet.

He inspects the fit and confirms that the flag will withstand strong winds.

From conception to completion, it takes about three days to manufacture flags.

Then the sky's the limit.

You can use a wet/dry vacuum both inside and out, to clean up messes that an ordinary cleaner can't handle.

This powerful picker-upper can suction everything from leaves to small pieces of wood, and if you remove the filter bag from the tank, it can vacuum liquids, too.

A wet/dry vacuum is lightweight, yet can handle heavy-duty pickups that would ruin an ordinary vacuum cleaner.

Most of the components are plastic.

This machine produces them by shooting molten plastic into molds, then cooling it to a solid state.

A robot extracts the finished parts.

All the vacuum's parts are injection-molded except for the electric motor.

The motor has two fans.

One cools the motor itself with ambient air and the other creates a vacuum to suck debris through the hose.

The vacuum fan is in a separate chamber so that liquid never comes in contact with the motor's electrical components.

Workers place the motor in a plastic housing with the drive shaft facing upward.

They put a spacer on the shaft, then mount the vacuum fan, securing it with a nut.

They close up the housing with a grid plate.

This prevents fingers from accidentally touching the fan.

They now take the head assembly to a testing area.

They'll run the motor for up to 10 minutes to make sure everything functions correctly.

Then they plug it into a second test station, which verifies that there's adequate suction and no electrical short circuits.

If everything checks out, they send the head assembly to the packaging area.

There, workers assemble the rest of the vacuum.

At the first station, a press locks the inlet securely in a hole at the front of the tank.

At the next stop, a worker places a package of screws, an instruction manual, and four casters to be installed by the purchaser in the tank.

Next, workers take the head assembly and add it to the vac's top cover.

They load the vacuum's lid onto a carousel along with a pleated paper filter.

The filter prevents dust and fine debris from getting into the vacuum fan chamber.

Then they mount the head assembly on an automated screw-driving machine and place the lid on top after first removing the filter.

Once the lid is screwed to the head assembly, they put the filter back on.

Now they place the assembled lid onto the tank...

And snap down the latches to secure it.

The final stop on the line checks the suction power, the electrical system, and makes sure the on/off switch works correctly.

If the vacuum passes testing, a robot picks up the unit and places it in a retail box.

Workers add extension wands, a nozzle, and a hose, then finally a filter bag is added, which is only used when vacuuming up dry debris.

Consumer wet/dry vacs come in several tank sizes, from 1 to 24 gallons.

During the medieval era, axes were more than tools.

They were terrifying weapons that could inflict very deep wounds.

Today, craftsmen still make battle axes for use in the entertainment industry.

The medieval battle ax was a brutal weapon.

With a single blow, it could break through a knight's armor and fatally wound him.

To produce an authentic replica for movies and tv shows, the blacksmith consults reference books.

He sketches the ax head design on paper, roughing out the details to the desired scale.

He cleans up pieces of old carbon steel, which he'll combine with other metals.

In total, there will be 75 metal strips of varying composition.

To complete the mix of metals, he cuts an old blade made of nickel steel alloy into equally sized strips.

He loads 37 strips into a vice.

He tightens the vice and tack-welds them together.

He sands the welded stack.

He rubs oil into the stack to prevent oxidation.

Now, exposed to intense heat, the metal layers forge together.

He spreads a mix of borax and other minerals called flux onto the surface.

This deters oxidation as the forging continues with a pneumatic hammer.

The hammer slams the layers together to become a solid laminated block.

It's ready to be transformed into the ax's cutting head.

Repeated strikes pinch the metal in the center.

He sprinkles the flux mixture onto the surface of the metal form, heats it again, and folds it into a "c" shape.

After a reheat, he inserts a layer of carbon steel in the center for the blade.

He hammers the "c" shape flat, leaving the pinched section round for the handle.

The 75 strips have been forged into one.

Next, the power hammer refines the handle knob.

He drives a steel stake called a tapered drift into the center of the knob.

This forms an opening for inserting the wood handle.

Using the power hammer, he now flattens the blade end of the ax head substantially.

He flares it to form a cutting edge and removes the excess with a plasma cutter.

He saws it off, and the result is fierce.

The ax head has taken shape, but it needs some refining.

He hammers the handle area to spread it wider.

And dips the ax head in water to cool it down.

Then he grinds the blade thinner using a belt sander and rinses off the residue.

He grinds it again to get rid of any hammer marks or oxidative scale.

The different metals react when dipped in acid, creating a swirled pattern on the surface of the head.

The first bath was contaminated, so he polishes it off and gives the ax head another rinse in clean acid.

After heat treating and tempering, he polishes the face of the ax and hones the edge.

Next, he grinds spiral grooves into a piece of oak for the ax's handle.

A colleague stains the entire handle to accentuate the carved spirals and enhance the grain of the wood.

Once it dries, the blacksmith wedges the ax head onto the handle.

A few strikes against a steel block improves the fit.

Finally, he hammers upholstery studs onto the handle to simulate the rivets that reinforced the original medieval ax handles.

This medieval ax is ready for action.

Medieval ax replicas are authentic props for any tv show or movie.

Handled carefully, no one will get hurt.


Airstream Trailers
Horseradish
Industrial Steam Boilers
Deodorant

In 1931, airstream founder wally byam sold plans to build your own travel trailer.

In response to a growing demand, he decided manufacturing was the better way to go.

He then introduced the airstream trailer, with its familiar modern design that has withstood the test of time.

The airstream trailer is a recreation vehicle that can take you to the most remote areas, yet still enjoy a fully functional living space.

They can also be hooked up to outside services, so you can stay as long as you like in the comfort of home.

To start, an operator puts a sheet of aircraft-grade aluminum into a press that punches the rivet holes.

A worker then rivets the sheets together to make the walls of the trailer.

Here they're assembling the end shells, the rounded end sections for the front and back of the trailer.

They apply sealant to all the seams.

Technicians then rivet the two ends to the components that make up the trailer shell, including the floor, the walls, and the roof.

A worker uses a router and a template to cut out window openings from the walls.

He puts the windows in the openings and secures them in place.

Another worker applies a weatherproof sealant to all the interior seams, then smoothes it out to ensure good coverage.

Using a crane, they lower the shell onto the chassis.

At this point, they thread some of the wiring into the shell.

Next comes the plywood floor, which a worker attaches firmly to the chassis.

Another associate puts the door in place.

He rivets the door to the shell.

He takes extra care to protect the aluminum from being damaged by the force of the rivet gun.

The trailer then goes into a rain-test booth that simulates hurricane-strength rain.

The test lasts about an hour, during which a technician makes sure the shell is watertight.

Next, they apply a water-based adhesive to the interior and install insulation throughout the shell.

Now they bring in the interior skin.

It's the same aircraft-grade aluminum used on the outside.

They trim the walls for the window openings then lay down the vinyl floor covering.

An installer trims the vinyl and uses the old-fashioned way to make it snug against the shell because a standard carpet stretcher would poke holes in the vinyl.

A worker installs the fiberglass shower stall and hooks up the drain and plumbing.

He cuts a hole in the fiberglass then installs all the shower-control components and the showerhead.

He finishes off this residential-style shower with a frosted-glass door.

Next, they put in the convertible couches and beds and all the other amenities of home, including a gas stove.

Finally, a technician performs quality-control checks to make sure the electrical and mechanical systems work flawlessly.

Only then is an airstream trailer ready to hit the road and continue the time-honored tradition of discovery and adventure that makes this iconic recreation vehicle an american original.

Horseradish has a hot history.

The ancient greeks used it as an aphrodisiac.

They also rubbed it on sore body parts to alleviate pain.

During the renaissance, eating horseradish made its way from central europe to england.

By the late 1600s, it was customary among the british to eat horseradish with beef and oysters.

At the root of this hot condiment is a root.

You peel away an outer skin to access a thick white flesh.

Chewing or grinding the flesh releases enzymes, which produce horseradish's heat-- the plant's natural defense mechanism against predators.

Horseradish is a leafy, flowering plant with a thick central root, called the mother root, and smaller offshoots called sets.

After culling the mother root, farmers re-plant the sets, each of which will spawn a new plant.

At harvest time, the first farm machine chops down the plants to ground level and rakes the leaves out of the way.

Then a horseradish harvester digs up the roots.

As the roots bounce onto a mesh conveyer belt, most of the soil breaks off and falls back onto the ground.

You have to keep horseradish cold to keep it hot.

So the roots go directly into a cooler.

The temperature is just above freezing and the humidity high so the roots retain their moisture.

To grind them fresh from the field would produce horseradish with a grassy flavor, so the roots spend about a month in the cooler.

Only then are they ready for processing.

At the horseradish factory, a machine washes the roots in cold water.

Then a conveyer belt runs the roots through a final rinse.

Workers carefully inspect the roots.

They pick out any debris and discard any dark roots that would sully the whiteness of the final product.

Next, the roots travel to the automated grinding system.

The conveyer belt has built-in scales that control how much goes into the grinder at a time.

The grinder works like a giant food processor.

While grinding, it automatically feeds in a specific amount of vinegar.

This stops the enzyme reaction, preventing heat from escaping.

The grinder also automatically adds water and salt brine.

The salt adds flavor and keeps the horseradish from browning.

Next, the horseradish moves into a blender.

This is where the factory adds the extra ingredients for specialty flavors, such as fresh cream for cream-style horseradish.

A pumping system transfers it from the blender to a holding tank.

Inside the tank, mixing blades continuously turn to prevent the ingredients from separating.

En route to the filling station, the inside of every single glass container gets a blast of air to blow out any debris.

The filling process is entirely automated.

The machine grabs each container, aligns it under a nozzle, then squirts the horseradish inside.

The filled containers move on a conveyer to the capping machine.

There a spinning head descends, screwing a plastic cap to the container.

Next, the containers move to the labeler.

It applies glue to the back of the labels, then slaps one on to every container.

From there, the containers go off to cold storage until shipping time-- shipping via refrigerated truck, of course.

Prepared horseradish has a seven-month shelf life, thanks to the vinegar and salt, which act as natural preservatives.

Those critical ingredients maintain the color, flavor, and heat until you're ready to eat.

Industrial steam boilers heat water to produce steam to do such things as sterilize surgical instruments, cook food, and heat or humidify buildings.

They are even used for dry cleaning.

The water inside an industrial steam boiler is heated by natural gas, oil, or electricity.

Industrial steam boilers are usually found deep inside buildings, where they inconspicuously create valuable steam and heat.

It starts with a plasma torch that cuts holes in a solid sheet of steel.

The thickness of the steel used depends on the operating pressure of the boiler.

Using a hydraulic bending machine, a worker shapes the metal into what will become the inner shell of the boiler.

This inner shell will contain the water that gets heated inside the boiler to create steam.

He stops the rolls and prepares an edge of the shell for welding.

He continues shaping the metal to a preset diameter, and then he grinds the other edge to prepare it for welding.

The shell shape is now fully formed and ready to be welded closed.

A submerged arc-welding machine deposits a special granular material that protects the weld from air contamination.

He removes the protective granular material, leaving behind a perfect weld.

Next, a worker welds what's called a boiler head to the shell.

He fits steel pipes into the boiler heads located at both ends.

He welds the pipe securely in place.

Workers then insert a combustion chamber into the shell.

Later, a burner, used to heat the water, will be fitted into the combustion chamber.

A worker then tests the fully assembled pressure vessel, as it's now called.

He fills the space between the combustion chamber and the shell with water to ensure it doesn't leak.

Workers then wrap the pressure vessel in insulation to help the boiler retain heat.

They wrap an outer jacket around the pressure vessel and secure it in place using sheet-metal screws.

All boilers then receive a blower, which feeds air into the burner and the combustion chamber.

Next, a worker attaches what is known as a water column.

This apparatus supports various control devices and sensors, as well as a visual indicator that shows the water level inside the boiler.

A worker connects the electrical-control panel, so he can test the safety and operation of the boiler.

He powers up the unit and fires the burner that is installed inside the combustion chamber.

He opens a steam-outlet pipe on a test line and makes sure all the control devices, including the water-level indicator and the blower, are working properly.

This boiler passes the test.

It generates the correct amount of heat and steam.

Finally, a worker applies the appropriate labeling on every boiler, whether it's a smaller unit, the type used in a dry-cleaning business, or one of the larger boilers used in a food-processing plant.

Before bathing became common, people used heavy colognes to mask unwanted odor.

It wasn't until the late 1800s that chemists created the first commercial deodorant.

Today deodorants are available in a variety of forms, from natural alternatives, like body crystals, to antiperspirants that use chemicals to reduce perspiration.

Almost everyone applies deodorant at some point during the day.

Convenient packaging helps make application easy.

First step to making deodorant-- mixing up the batch.

Workers pour a blend of ingredients into a kettle mixer, then add powdered wax-- the main ingredient that holds everything together.

They also add silicone for a smooth texture.

Steam heats the mix to 167 degrees fahrenheit, melting the ingredients.

A standard recipe for deodorants includes wax, active ingredients that prevent perspiration, dimethicone-- a blending agent, silicone, and fragrance to mask odors.

Deodorants, like all personal-care products, must meet strict quality-control standards.

The chemists in this plant's laboratory perform a variety of tests to ensure their product meets the highest standards.

To make sure that the product has the right consistency, this chemist will perform a viscosity test.

She stirs a sample at a constant speed, then verifies that the force required is within the accepted range.

These containers will dispense the deodorant.

They're mechanically unscrambled on a rotating platform that sends them spinning into individual pockets.

Sensors overhead detect the ones that aren't lining up properly.

A blast of air sends them back onto the platform to repeat the process.

Now that they're all right-side-up, they move along to the filling station.

There, a system of levers raises them up to align with filling nozzles that dispense the mix.

A system of rotating wheels keeps the containers moving.

One wheel conveys them to the next for filling, and then a third wheel leads them out.

It's best to fill using hot mix that flows freely.

But the deodorant must cool in order to harden.

An overhead rake evenly lines up the containers inside a refrigerating tunnel.

Once it's full, workers set the cooling system to 14 degrees celsius.

The deodorant will remain here for several hours.

Next, chemists perform a hardness test on a cold sample of deodorant.

A force meter measures the amount of pressure required to crush the sample.

It has to be just right.

Too hard, and the deodorant crumbles without spreading.

It must be able to flow smoothly out through this perforated dome that will cover the deodorant.

Each container gets one over at the doming station.

Again, a system of revolving wheels works together to convey the containers through the station.

At the center wheel, cappers overhead lay the perforated dome on top of each one.

The containers then move to the next station, where they each receive a strip of adhesive plastic that covers the dome's surface-- a safety seal that protects the deodorant.

Back to the doming station.

The containers pass through once more as the cappers now snap a plastic cover onto each one.

Now they're ready for the final step-- labeling.

The containers roll past a plate that lifts off adhesive labels from a continuous strip and applies them.

A brush smoothes over the labels.

That's the final touch.

Now the deodorant is ready for shipping to customers.

Good things do come in small packages of all kinds.