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We found this lurking under a pile of not-so-properly-filed documents—right between an expired supply catalog and what might have once been a donut. It was covered in dust, and when we picked it up, it hurt. Turns out, exposed coils are not ergonomic. Who knew? Now, we’re left with questions. Was this some kind of forgotten experiment? A relic from an engineer who refused to read filing instructions? A long-lost component of an ancient radio system? Or maybe—just maybe—th …

It was one of those days in the office—the kind where the fluorescent lights felt too bright, the coffee tasted like regret, and the idea of sitting at a desk felt downright criminal. So, as usual, we did what any self-respecting team of professional oddity hunters would do: we took to the warehouse. Up and down the aisles we went, dodging precariously stacked boxes, skimming past shelves filled with gizmos and doodads, and occasionally getting distracted by something shiny. Then—bam …

Back in 1989, before the internet took over our lives and when VHS tapes were still king, Wild Chicago paid a visit to American Science & Surplus. And guess what? We just struck VHS gold—we found the footage! A true time capsule of surplus oddities, mad science, and whatever else we were up to back then. Now, we’ve got to ask—did any of our Surpies happen to catch our moment of fame on Wild Chicago back in the day? Maybe you still remember what we had on the shelves or the …

We were staring out the office window, watching the Chicago wind absolutely bully everything in sight. The trees? Bent at a 45-degree angle. Pedestrians? Walking against the wind like poorly programmed robots. The temperature? A disrespectful -6°F with windchill. Stepping outside wasn’t an option unless we wanted to reenact The Wizard of Oz. So, trapped indoors, we did what any reasonable, science-loving folks would do: we started rifling through drawers in search of something interest …

This morning, the Chicago wind hit us so hard we nearly filed a police report. The office thermostat smugly read a cozy 68°F, but outside? The weather report said -6°F, which is just a polite way of saying "your soul will attempt to leave your body." Naturally, we had to verify this ourselves. So, we rummaged through the surplus pile and unearthed our trusty Taylor alcohol thermometer—the one that’s been in the back room so long it might qualify for senior discounts. It& …