Surpie's Stories & Saving AS&S!

Donated. Sciplus (under their old name of Jerryco) was a significant part of my upbringing, whether they realized it or not.  As a kid from Michigan, I grew up reading the Jerryco catalog and asking my parents about weird phrases therein, which is how I learned all sorts of cultural references that were, in retrospect, probably not what most folks expected their young children to be asking about. I also learned a lot more context than I got from the dry, factual descriptions in the Edmund Scientific catalog. (Or the Lab Safety Supply catalog, for that matter. I evidently really liked reading catalogs.) To this day, I have a tote labeled "Bottles, boxes, and bags", after their catalog section. So when the family took a trip to Chicago, we did a bunch of touristy stuff that I don't remember in the slightest, and also a side-trip to the Jerryco store. It was heaven, it was Mecca, it was Woodstock, it was a candy store, it was a hands-on science museum, all these things at once and more. I devoured it -- a physical tactile experience reflecting the vast weirdness and limitless possibilities of the catalog! I wanted one of everything but had to restrict myself to a few handfuls, because I was 8 and had no money and my parents didn't have much either. With parental and staff guidance, I picked out some stuff I thought might be fun to play with -- some solar cells (exotic tech in the 80s!), a couple switches I liked the feel of, some motors, who knows what else. Those are the items I remember because, years later in my teens, those different types of solar cells were the foundation of an award-winning science fair project testing their efficiency under different types of light. In my twenties, one of those rocker switches, still kicking around my parts drawer, ended up being the perfect size to replace a failed switch in a spotlight I was repairing. In my thirties, one of those motors snuck into the back of an engineering demonstration that needed a bit more grunt than the stock Lego motor could provide. Three decades of engineering usefulness, from one trip at age 8. Beat that. I've visited one other time, in 2012 or thereabouts, to the Geneva store. It wasn't quite as vast as the store in my memory, perhaps due to the whole "growing up" thing, or perhaps Geneva just isn't as big as Park Ridge. But it was every bit as magical. Packed to the gills with obscure stuff, quirky signage and decor, and tempting prices. And I could see other young scientists and engineers prowling the aisles, getting their hands on surplus that cost some business megabucks when it was new, turning these weird mechanisms over in their hands until they made sense, synthesizing new uses...