Balloons Wallpaper Frozen French Fries Incandescent Light Bulbs
Today on "how it's made"... Balloons... Wallpaper... Frozen french fries... And incandescent light bulbs. Balloons are used to mark special occasions or to brighten up a day for young and old people alike. But balloons weren't always so delightful. In earlier days, they were made of dried animal bladders-- a bit of an unpleasant concept. In the 19th century, someone invented a rubber balloon which we still use today. They started mass-producing balloons in the 1930s, and today they're everywhere. To make balloons, they pour dye into a tank of latex. They filter it through cheesecloth to remove any lumps. Agitators at the bottom of the tank mix it up for 15 or 16 hours. This distributes the color, and it also keeps the latex active so it doesn't congeal. Balloons come in 53 different shades. Nozzles spray hot water onto balloon forms to clean them as they move on a system of rollers. A fixture then flips and dips the forms into a tank of coagulate that carries an electrochemical charge which will attract the colored latex. On top of this fixture are balloon forms freshly dipped in blue latex, while below a tank full of latex rises, coating more forms on the underside. The job done, the fixture flips back, moving the balloon forms to an upright position, while below another tray of balloon forms takes the plunge. The latex dries quickly as a conveyor moves the balloon forms forward toward spiraling brushes. The brushes roll up the bottoms of the balloons creating lips. The lips will make it possible for people to grip the balloons in order to inflate them. The fixture flips again, and the balloons nose-dive into a hot-water bath. They soak for up to 16 minutes. This step is critical. It leaches out all the impurities, including a protein that causes latex allergies. The hot bath also triggers vulcanization, or rubberizes the latex. The balloons travel to another station. Here, the fixture dips them in a mix of talcum powder and water. This will allow them to be more easily stripped off the form. And now it's time for the forms to shed their latex skins. As the forms pass through this station, air jets inflate the balloons. Rollers at the top grab the balloons as they fill with air and pull them away from the forms. The rollers shoot the balloons upward, and they topple onto a conveyor belt. Next, a worker piles the balloons into an industrial washing machine and adds a cleaning solution. The machine heats to a steamy 160 degrees fahrenheit, while the balloons tumble and nozzles spray water into it. This doesn't just clean the balloons. It completes the vulcanization of the latex. Now it's time to see if they can stand the test of inflation. A machine blows air into a huge, heart-shaped balloon, and the heart swells but doesn't break. She holds it against a light to check for imperfections like blisters. Now it's time to blow some up. They're sure to brighten up your day. We've been using wallpaper to add color to our homes for a long time. The use of wallpaper dates back to 15th-century england. At first, it was seen as a cheap substitute for tapestry and panels. But over time, wallpaper gained wider appeal. Even today, wallpaper is a popular alternative to plain paint. When it comes to variety and design, wallpaper has really got it covered. To make the vinyl base for wallpaper, they pour water into a giant mixing bowl, add stabilizing powder and a lot of plastic pellets. They add solvent which helps to dissolve the plastic pellets into the mix. Big beaters stir it all up. It starts to look a lot like pancake batter. And just as if they were making pancake batter, they add ingredients incrementally-- a little more powder to thicken the mix... And more plastic pellets for good measure. When the mix reaches the right consistency, they pour it between rollers onto one side of special paper. An applicator roller spreads the vinyl mix evenly onto the paper. A jumbo reel rolls it up and then unwinds it again. Here, nozzles fill trays with paste. Rollers pick it up and apply it to the backside of the paper. Electrically powered rollers pull the wallpaper through a gas oven, drying the paste. Then they wind up the paper again, creating a giant reel. A circular blade now slices through the center of the paper. This turns the one roll into two, each one of them 21 1/2 inches wide. They pull off a sample piece and tear the paper away from the vinyl. They're checking the adhesion and if the vinyl is durable and smooth. Meanwhile, away from the production line, stylists experiment with paint. They brush colors on a design that they've selected. They select five to six different color combinations because this design will be printed in many hues. Each color requires a separate print roller. The design is engraved into each roller. A worker applies some ink onto one of the print rollers. As the wallpaper turns on a big drum vinyl-side up the print roller transfers the image onto the paper. Each cylinder layers it in a different color, building up the design. Darker colors are achieved by deeper engravings on the print cylinder because they transfer more ink to the wallpaper. Conversely, shallower engravings produce lighter tones. When they have the final proof, they compare it to the original artwork. If the colors look right, the design goes into production. There's no turning back now. The ink is ready, and the paper roll travels through a web of print cylinders. Here, print cylinders build a dolphin design onto the vinyl side of the paper. To dry the ink, the paper travels through a hot-blower system. This is the view from below. Photos are taken and viewed on a monitor to get a close look at the quality of the wallpaper print. If it passes inspection, they roll the wallpaper onto a big reel. Some wallpaper has a flat finish, but they often emboss it, making raised designs. This creates texture. Blades from above and below cut the wallpaper into 32.8-foot rolls. A conveyor system transports the wallpaper to a machine that shrink-wraps it, and then it's off to the showroom, where you can pick your favorite design. Most food historians believe french fries are actually a belgian invention. One theory says they originated in the 1680s with poor people who'd resort to frying potatoes instead of fish. During world war i, fries were popular with north american soldiers stationed in belgium's french-speaking areas, which may be how they came to be called french fries. This company makes its frozen fries from russet potatoes. Russets are oval, so they produce longer fries than a rounder-shaped variety would. Russets are also sufficiently crunchy when fried, and their lower-than-average sugar content means their flesh stays white longer. When the potatoes arrive at the factory, they travel along rollers that rub off any foreign matter-- things such as soil, small rocks, and plant parts. The rollers also scrape off the eyes. The potatoes then enter the washing station. As they spin in a revolving cage, water jets spray their surface, cleaning them thoroughly. Next stop-- a sorting machine that divides the potatoes by size. It's made up of successive levels of vibrating grids. The shaking forces the smaller potatoes through the grid openings, separating them from the larger potatoes. Big potatoes become classic, strip-shaped fries. Small ones become ring-shaped or cube-shaped fries. After sorting, the potatoes drop into a collection bin. Once full, its bottom hatch opens, releasing the potatoes into a giant steamer. After about 10 seconds in the pressurized steam, the skins are soft enough to come off with just a little pressure. That happens next in this machine called the peeler. It looks like a giant clothes dryer, except that the drum is lined with brushes. As the drum tumbles, the bristles rub off the skins. As the skinless potatoes exit the peeler, workers inspect them, tossing any that have green or rotten parts or pieces of skin still stuck to them. The type of fries in production determines which of two systems to do the chopping. A series of rotary, mechanical slicers... Or a hydraulic system in which running water thrusts the potatoes against cutting blades. The freshly cut potato pieces drop into a canal. Flowing water transports them to a conveyor belt that will move them through the next phases. Now for a high-tech quality check. Each and every piece passes by a camera in which a computer analyzes size and color. Any substandard fry-to-be is flagged, and an air jet blows it off the production line. The good pieces fall into a water tank. As they soak, sugar leaches out of the flesh so that they'll all turn out the same color once they're cooked. Then a process known as blanching-- the pieces go into hot water then cold water. This firms up the flesh and makes the potato flavor more pronounced. Then it's into the fryer. The potatoes cook for about two minutes in non-hydrogenated vegetable oil. As the french fries leave the fryer, excess oil drains down through holes in the conveyor belt to a collection pan below. The fries now pass through the freezer area which is between 5 and negative-13 degrees fahrenheit. They take about 10 minutes to freeze. Once they do, an oscillating conveyor belt deposits them into chutes. Each chute has a built-in scale set to the package weight which, for this production run, is 8.8 pounds. Once that quantity accumulates, the bottom of the chute opens, and the fries drop into a plastic bag. All the customer has to do is drop these frozen french fries into boiling oil for two or three minutes, and they're ready to serve. The incandescent light bulb is a rather simple device. Its base has two metal contacts which connect to a metal filament. The electric current's electrons collide with the atoms in the filament, making them vibrate. This energy heats the atoms to 4,000 degrees fahrenheit, at which temperature they emit visible light. The light-bulb factory has two production lines that eventually merge. One prepares the glass bulb. The other makes what's called the mount-- the electrical components that go inside it. At the start of the mount line, a machine cuts glass tubing into pieces of specific lengths. The cut tubes land on what's called a glazing wheel that runs them through a gas flame for about seven seconds. This heats the glass enough to smooth the surface. The glazed tubes now enter what's called a flare-making machine, which heats each tube until the glass is malleable then stretches one end into a flared shape. The next machine loads two copper lead wires into the flare end, then it inserts a thin, glass cylinder called the exhaust tube. A trip through a series of progressively hotter flames softens the tubes. A press then moves in to squash them, encasing the wires in glass. At the same time, the machine makes a tiny hole in the glass in between the wires. This is to later remove air from inside the bulb. It will exit via the exhaust tube through this hole. Next, the machine separates the lead wires and forms the ends into hooks. These fasten to the filament, a thin wire coil made of tungsten, a type of metal that holds up well to heat. The machine coats the lead wires in a liquid form of another metal, zirconia. This lengthens their life span by making them more resistant to moisture inside the bulb. Like the tubes we've just seen, the bulbs are made of an inexpensive type of glass called soda-lime glass. A machine stamps the top of each bulb with the voltage, the wattage, and the company logo. Opaque light bulbs are simply clear bulbs with an inside coating of synthetic silica-- a white powder. The coating machine charges the bulbs to 30,000 volts. Combined with just the right amount of heat, this electrical charge makes a thin layer of powder cling to the glass. A series of flames evaporates moisture and bakes off any impurities. As the two production lines merge, a bulb goes over each mount. Torches then fuse the flared end of the mount to the neck of the bulb. Arms move in and mold the neck to fit inside the bulb's aluminum base. The next machine vacuums out all the air in the bulb and replaces it with pressurized argon gas. This inert gas will resist heat buildup, helping the filament last longer. After bending the lead wires out of the way, torches melt and seal off the glass exhaust tube, locking the argon gas inside. The bulb would now be fully functional if connected to an electric current. But it needs a base in order to screw into the socket of a light fixture. The base is made of aluminum. This machine inserts one of the bulbs' lead wires through the middle and solders it in place. It then spot-welds the other wire to the side. The result-- two base contacts to line up with two socket contacts. On their way to packaging, the bulbs undergo what's called flash testing-- repeated light-ups, using a higher voltage each time. This strengthens the filaments inside, making it less likely to break during shipping. This factory tests light bulbs regularly to make sure the light output and wattage are what they should be. One last illumination to make sure nothing broke between flash testing and packaging. The automated packaging equipment is designed to cushion and protect the fragile bulbs so they don't break during transport.