On The Fly

U.K. Book Cover Only the most dedicated students of history may remember the "resplendent name of Philo T. Farnsworth" says Bill Bryson in his latest book, One Summer America, 1927 . But could they recall what he patented that year? Did you know 1927 was Yankee sluggers, Lou Gehrig’s and Babe Ruth's best year in Major League Baseball. Or for that matter, baby-boomers, remember - the most famous 25 year-old who captivated the world that summer, Charles Lindberg. Or was it Al Capone, said to be one of the best business minds in recent history.  Without a doubt, my favorite author, Bill Bryson’s new book transcends time to take you back to a year that America lead the way in inventions, culture, movies, sport, and gangsters. One riveting chapter explores how Philo T. Farnsworth (just saying that name is fun) unveiled his all-electronic television prototype—the first of its kind—made possible by a video camera tube or "image dissector." If yo

In frustration, I whispered back to Peridot, “That’s what I’m trying to do. What am I missing?” We were seated in Florence for dinner with Davies, Richard Leyland, and Renaldo Rossi, across the street from La statue de la Justice. Leyland handed Peridot his parcel, and with a flick of his fingers Peridot opened the paper and that lovely yellowish Green gem appeared.  Identical  to the one I was holding. In his best professor’s voice he began. “Gentleman, it appears we’ve had a slight mixup here.” “How can you be sure?” asked our art collector, Leyland. “Bontemps, what is the unique property that gemologists measure to determine a stones identity?” “It’s refractive index, of course.” I said.”  “Correct, and what is the refractive index of Peridot ?” “ Peridot has a refractive index of 1.654 to 1.690. It exhibits a high birefringence, and a greasy luster.” Peridot raised his index finger. “We need to be more specific my boy. Refractive index is the rati

Still reeling from the shock that Dee Davies and Peridot were cousins, we were cordially greeted by Professor Rossi (Peppe) of the Uffizi, and Mr. Richard Leyland, art collector, in the dining establishment across the street from the Column of Justice in Florence. “Good evening gentleman,” said Peridot calmly. As we took our seats my thoughts flashed back to how my alliance with Hercule Peridot had begun. Serendipity, maybe, or was it kismet, as they say in the gem trade? Not long after I was hired to teach at the school of Gemology in 1987, Professor Peridot completed his sabbatical there and resumed his duties at the University in Los Angeles. Peridot and I had kept in contact since our meeting. We had become good friends through our shared hobbies of gemstones and computers. In those early days, much of our correspondence was through a bulletin board service I had built, using hardware which now seems archaic; an 80386 computer with 2,400 baud dial-up modems