Today's Useless Science: The Can-Balancing Trick

Have you ever noticed that a half-full can of soda is less prone to tipping over and spilling than a full one?

Have you ever noticed that a nearly-empty can of soda is MORE prone to tipping than a half-full one? 

Have you ever taught your grandchildren that trick of balancing a can of soda at a 45 degree angle, on the grooves on the bottom of the can?

Try balancing it like this.

 Here's the science behind it.

The good folks at the Department of Useless Science have taken the specs on the aluminum used in a can of soda, and the density of a typical carbonated drink, and calculated the center of gravity for that can of soda - from the moment before it is opened, to the moment the last drop is drained. Here's what they found.

The center of gravity is lowest when the can is a bit less than one quarter full. Knowing that, you can do that cool balancing trick to impress your grandkids.

You can also predict the most likely moment that the youngest grandchild will knock over any random open can of soda.

Old patterns repeating themselves: life with daughters and granddaughters

I'm thinking that the circle of life is a double-loop. Or maybe a Möbius strip. See what you think.

I just spent a very enjoyable five days with my daughter, her husband, and their two children. They have a delightful little house in a friendly Italian-American neighborhood in the Land of Many People.

My sweet wife and I enjoyed their company - all of them. Even so, it seemed like I spent most of my time with my six-year-old granddaughter. We read books, played games, and roughhoused. We went to Subway for an early dinner, just the two of us. We drove into a nearby town to take a picture of a famous celebrity's bakery, and had fun getting lost on the way back. We played Rock Band and watched G-Force. She asked me countless questions, and my answers were either the straight, honest truth, or the biggest whoppers I've come up with yet.

As my daughter observed us, sometimes with a silent smile on her face, something powerful and magical happened - tangibly, repeatedly, and to both of us. While I was engaged in a tickle fight, or spinning another tall tale, or holding a small hand as we walked through an island park, for a few magical moments time looped back on itself. In an instant twenty-two years melted away, and we both saw me going through those same motions, not with my six-year-old granddaughter, but with my six-year-old daughter. She felt it, and I felt it: the subtle reverberation of two circles of time colliding and rubbing against each other.

I love my daughter deeply, and I admire her for the woman she has become and for what she has done with her life. It gratifies me to see her and her husband together, so in love with each other and so united in purpose and direction. Time and distance have conspired to keep her away from us, while we have seen her sisters and enjoyed their company much more often. These little flashback loops in the path of time helped me to recall the fun times we had together when she was younger.

And though it sounds clichéd to the point of inspiring nausea, these moments reassured me that this woman that I now admire will always be my little girl.

This is the Kind of Grandpa I Want to Be

My youngest son saw this on "My Life Is Average":

Today, I was outside of Home Depot, when i almost got knocked over by an old man riding by on one of those orange cart things. His grandson ran up to me, appoligized for his grandfathers bad behavior, then proceeded to run after his grandfather saying, "Alright Grandpa, if you get us kicked out of one more store, I'm telling Grandma."

That's the kind of grandpa I want to be. The only thing that would make it better is if it were me and Grandpa Bob, racing each other through the aisles at Home Depot on those orange cart things.

(Yeah, I copied and pasted that directly from MLIA, with misspellings intact and everything. At least I included a link back to the original. Sosumi.)