the chief object of the present invention is to provide a novel apparatus which will provide a visual and instantaneous indication when a chair under test is properly dimensioned to fit any given person.
Even after looking up the meaning of the word 'tuberosity' in the dictionary, it took me a while to figure out what exactly Scoville's device was measuring, and what it possibly had to do with chairs. Because the dictionary simply defined tuberosity as a 'rounded swelling.' Some more googling revealed that Scoville must have been referring to the Ischial tuberosity, or 'sitting bone'. As defined by wikipedia, this is:
a large swelling posteriorly on the superior ramus of the ischium. It marks the lateral boundary of the pelvic outlet. When sitting, the weight is frequently placed upon the ischial tuberosity. The gluteus maximus provides cover in the upright posture, but leaves it free in the seated position. The distance between a cyclist's ischial tuberosities is one of the factors in the choice of a bicycle saddle.
Frederick Newbery envisioned pipes transporting milk underground from farms directly into cities. He received a patent for this idea in 1874 (No. 148,620). Though as far as I know, his long-distance milk pipes were never put into practice.
Richard Burgess's 1941 patent (No. 2,244,444) describes a pair of feathered wings that could be attached to the arms of an individual, who would then flap the wings up and down. This, claimed Burgess, would create a sense of buoyancy, while simultaneously providing physical exercise. In particular, it would "develop the chest, back, arm and leg muscles, while also tending to create accelerated breathing and thus general physical tone." It would do all this, he said, while also being "very diverting and accordingly attractive."
Thomas Mullenaux of San Pedro, CA was recently granted a patent (No. 10,626,581) for furniture that gathers water from the air via a dehumidifier, collects it in a built-in reservoir, and then allows a person to drink it through a retractable hose.
However, in his patent application, Mullenaux never explains why anyone would want or need 'water-dispensing furniture'. I guess it might be useful for those who are too lazy to walk to their kitchen to get a glass of water.
The water dispensing system for furniture includes a water dispensing system that is built into or attached onto an item of furniture. Water is stored within a reservoir within a water system housing and may be pumped through a first filter to one of two retractable hoses. The water is provided via a dehumidifier and second filter that draw moisture from the air and purify the resulting water. At least one retractable hose is provided, and includes a mouthpiece. When the at least one retractable hose is released, said hose is pulled back into the item of furniture to stay out of the way. When not in use, the retractable hoses are wound around spring-loaded reels.
In 2005, Robert Dickey and Ruth Stephens filed a patent application for "swimwear as information device." Their idea was to make a line of swimwear that displayed maritime signal flags. This would allow people to communicate messages to those around them via their swimwear. They explained:
By using the appropriate international Signal flag or combination of international signal flags, different meanings can be communicated depending on the intentions of the wearer. For example, and individual could be wearing a covering garment (e.g. a jacket or Sweatshirt or the like) that prominently displays the international Signal flag "X-Ray', communicating the message "Stop carrying out your intentions and watch for my signals'. When the wearer sees someone with whom he or she would like to communicate with, the covering garment could be removed, revealing another article of apparel (e.g. a Swimsuit) displaying a Second international Signal flag "Kilo', communicating the message "I wish to communicate with you'.
The possible messages one could send seemed limitless, but they were never granted a patent. Perhaps the idea of messages on clothing was deemed too obvious.
There's also the limitation that only people conversant with maritime signal flags could decode the messages, which would make the various 'stay away' messages somewhat pointless.
The idea of using sunlight to kill viruses inside the body has recently been in the news. That made this old invention I posted about last month seem topical.
Edward W. Boersteler, of Watertown, MA, was the inventor of the ‘Curay Light Applicator,’ aka ‘Canned Sunshine.’ Back in the 1920s and 30s, he marketed it as a cure for the common cold. It emitted ultraviolet light, which people were supposed to shine down their throats, killing the germs.
In the selection of text below (taken from an article in the Chilicothe Constitution Tribune - Oct 16, 1925), I didn't correct any of the misspellings. In particular, I wasn't sure whether the phrase "ultra violent light" was a mistake, or intentional.
“Previous cure has ben hampered by the inability to get directly at the germs in these darkened passages, but in the new invention the curative rays are played directly onto the germs, being transmitted through a smal rod of the marvelous substance known as fused quartz.
“Fused quartz transmits ultra violent or invisible light without loss, whereas ordinary window glass shuts out ultra violent light which is the curative agent in sunshine.
“In the Curay Light aplicator,” Boerrsteler continued, “we have produced a source of radient energy closely approximating concentrated sunlight in the upper altitude, with an equivalent ultra violent content. Though it is a potent germ killer, it is harmless to the cels of the body.
It also went by the name "Belly Beeper". The idea was that if you slouched or let your stomach out, it would start beeping. Supposedly this would train you to always keep your stomach muscles tensed and not slouch.
Either that or it would train you to avoid wearing it.
The gadget attached to bathroom doors. Whenever someone turned the handle to open the door, the gadget would spray their hand with dye. This, reasoned Davis, would encourage people to wash their hands, to remove the dye. He imagined his invention might be useful in restaurants and hospitals that have "statutory type hygiene requirements to have their staff and employees clean their hands after using restroom facilities."
Although the invention had good intentions, I can think of several problems with it.
First, I'm sure that most employees would find it incredibly obnoxious to have their hand sprayed with dye every time they went to the bathroom.
Second, wouldn't the gadget also spray dye whenever someone exited the door... spraying into empty air? In which case, half the dye would be wasted. I can imagine employees standing on the inside of the door, pumping away at the door handle until all the dye was used up.
Paul Di Filippo
Paul has been paid to put weird ideas into fictional form for over thirty years, in his career as a noted science fiction writer. He has recently begun blogging on many curious topics with three fellow writers at The Inferior 4+1.