All posts by Thomas Pindelski

Seph Lawless

A fine Urban photographer.

Urban, or urban exploration, photography has been profiled here before. One notable instance is the work of Jonathan Haeber, a photographer who would search out abandoned sites – homes, factories, the Catskills – and document their sad demise.

A fine practitioner in this genre is the pseudonymously named Seph Lawless whose site contains many fine examples of his urban work.


Click the image to go to the website.

Yje use of light, especially in some of the high contrast images, is especially noteworthy. The series on abandoned malls illustrates the nature of America well. When something better comes along – Amazon – abandon what you have and let it rot. A sense of caring for the spirit of place is not an American thing.

Sofabaton U1 universal remote

A smart universal remote.

I explained how to add surround sound to a two channel sound system here. The only snag I have encountered is that the small Fosi two channel amplifier I procured to drive the rear surround sound speakers failed after a few months of service. The maker – Fosi Audio – proved to be a thief, refusing to honor the warranty. So be warned – do not buy the Fosi brand unless you want to be ripped off.

Anyway, there I was, feeling sorry for myself, when it struck me I had an old Sony two channel receiver hidden away in the garage in the corner that the black beetles call home. I whipped it out, plugged the rear speakers in and voila, rear channel sound was restored. After a bit of digging I determined that this old Sony could be used with an IR remote and it was the work of moments to find one on eBay. $12 later it was mine. And it’s nice having a remote for the rear speakers because you really want to set the volume on these from your usual listening position, as engineers are wildly inconsistent on the relative volume accorded the rear channel.

But the snag is that I was now in Remote Chaos.


A gaggle of remotes.

Reading from left to right, these control the top notch Parasound two channel front amplifier, the LG 4K OLED TV, that old Sony receiver resurrected from the garage, the Roku Express 4K streaming puck and the Mac Pro mouse, where all our movies are stored. The ridiculous thing is that no one remote permits the functions of another to be added, and despite the plethora of buttons – I count 117 plus the mouse – only one or two buttons on any one remote are ever used.

So it was time to think about adding a universal remote, though memories of earlier efforts with past devices, ones from RCA and Logitech, recalled only bad experiences.

Enter the quirkily named Sofabaton U1 universal remote.


The Sofabaton U1 with a cell phone. The scroll wheel is circled.
Click the image to go to Amazon.

Priced at an attractive $50 the device uses two (included) AA batteries and any Android or iOS cellphone or tablet to program. First, you download the Sofabaton app from the AppStore. There’s a substantial database of saved devices, accessed when you enter the manufacturer and device names (sadly there’s no scrollable list) and, if your devices are there, adding them to the Sofabaton, which can accommodate up to 15, is simplicity itself.

If your device is not in the database, you can use an existing remote to program it, and such was the need for the relatively obscure Parasound amplifier remote where the only buttons I programmed were power, volume, mute and two input options. You place the Sofabaton opposite and 3″ from your existing remote, choose the button to program on your iOS or Android device, and hold the corresponding button on the remote until the app tells you the button is programmed. No problemo.

All the other remotes were in the Sofabaton database.

The Sofabaton is an IR/line of sight device, and mercifully that old Sony rear channel amp, nestled on a shelf behind one of the Martin Logan electrostatic speakers, can be seen through the transparent speaker!


Transparent speakers rule.

The universal remote can also control one Bluetooth device, not a requirement in my case. If your devices use RF then you need the Sofabaton X1 universal remote, costlier, but a handy solution.

Cross-assigning keys: This is not in the instructions. Say you have programmed the TV scroll wheel setting on the Sofabaton using the stock codes in the database. Your volume keys, as an example, will control the TV speakers’ volume. But that is not what is wanted as an external amplifier is used with external speakers. Sure, you can switch the scroll wheel to the Amplifier setting and change the volume there, but it would be far better to have the TV scroll wheel setting volume buttons operate the amplifier and not the internal TV volume adjuster. You can do this. Go to the TV setup on your cell phone and choose the Up Volume key on the display. Then touch ‘Learn from Original Remote’ but when it comes to pointing a remote at the Sofabaton use the remote for your amplifier, not the one for your TV. I have done this in the TV setting for Volume Up, Volume Down and Mute. Now, without changing devices with the scroll wheel, I can change the volume setting on the external amplifier while remaining in the TV scroll wheel setting.

Note that ‘learning mode’, where an original remote is used to ‘teach’ the SofaBaton IR codes, is not perfect. Sometimes you need two or three goes to get the code to take, something which is clearly indicated on the cell phone’s display. In some cases I had to vigorously pump the button on the original remote before the SofaBaton played ball. But with a little persistence all was well.

Here’s an illustration of how this is done. I first programmed the Roku Express 4K keys using the stock data in the Sofabaton database. I then used the indicated remotes to override programming of selected keys with the happy result that all functions for the Roku are accessible without any scroll wheel selection – front and rear speaker volumes and muting, TV sources and sound sources:


Cross-assigned remote buttons.
This takes far longer to illustrate than to do.

Here is the programming screen on an iPhone for the above settings:


Green designates the stock database download for the Roku Express 4K.
Blue shows keys overriden with separate device remotes.
Orange is a Macro key to invoke the TV source display.

Snags? The battery cover is hellish to remove – I used a nickel and still managed to marginally scar the two opening slots. And there’s no way to program the mouse, despite the Bluetooth functionality, as the Sofabaton has no ball wheel.

Macros? These are series of steps – like ‘turn on the TV/turn on the front amplifier/turn on the rear amplifier’ – and are easily programmed with the requisite 0.5 second delay between each so as to allow sluggish devices to keep up. As for IR beam angle, my devices subtend maybe 45 degrees of angle from my seated position and pointing the Sofabaton at the middle of that angle saw no issues with response. In other words, the broadcast IR beam is wide.

The scroll wheel at the top of the device (see the first image, above) display the device chosen on the small LCD screen whose activation is motion sensitive. Pick up the remote and it comes alive. Leave it alone and it turns off after some 20 seconds of inactivity.

Look and feel? Except for the issue with the overtight battery door, feel and finish are excellent. The audible feedback from the keys is welcome, and the matt keys are set off against a very attractive glossy black fascia. It remains to be seen whether this will disclose a lot of scratches, but it looks great. The overall feel is that of a quality tool and the fit in the hand is superior to that of any of the now obsoleted separate remote controls. The English in the minimalist instruction book is truly ghastly, but the programming process with a cell phone is so simple that it does not matter.

And the pleasant result of all this magic?


The remote population now.
The OLED display is illuminated.

Reliability? Unknown as the device is new to me. I fancy the battery door clips will need some work with a fine file to ease removal. The buttons are not backlit but give off a satisfying ‘click’ when used.

The home entertainment center – technology should be enjoyed …. and invisible:


No mess.

Shelves that slide

A key storage bugaboo resolved.

For an index of cooking articles on this blog click here.

To say that shelf storage in the typical kitchen is sub-optimal is an understatement. It is atrocious. It’s not enough that storage in the pantry and kitchen is commonly deep, add those low kitchen cupboards and you can bet that those items on the lower levels in the back will quickly be forgotten about or lost. And reaching in for the items at the rear to extricate them means removing those in front to make room, simultaneously incurring a slipped disc or two. A disaster.

Check your local Yellow Pages for ‘Shelves that slide’ and you will likely find a local vendor who will drop by, measure up and in a few short weeks you have sliding storage. That technology makes the lowest, rearmost items readily visible when the shelf is slid out and easily removed vertically without the need to displace hardware in the front:


Pots and pans. The shelves slide
out much further than illustrated here.

In the pantry the benefits are similarly great.


In the pantry.

I stopped complaining about kitchen storage once I had these fitted throughout the below-counter cupboards a few years back. They are very heavy duty, come with plastic door protectors and run on ball bearings. Heirloom tools, in other words. They became so addictive that, more recently, I called the maker back to similarly equip the pantry. Installation is non-invasive for your existing shelves remain in place.

As the second image above shows, the new shelves are far more resistant to bending than the original “builder standard” ones. They are made from plywood which is very resistant to sag, compared with the poorly specified particle board originally used.

The Sunbeam AP10 coffee percolator

Another design from the master.

For an index of cooking articles on this blog click here.

In my review of the Sunbeam Radiant Control toaster I made mention of the designer, no, make that the genius designer, Ludvik J. Koci. Genius? Because everything about that special piece of mechanical engineering and Art Deco design makes that toaster a masterpiece with no equal today, at any price.

Looking at Google Patents I checked on other patents awarded to Koci and the first I came upon was his 1959 patent for the first automatic electric coffee making percolator. Like the toaster, it uses a bimetallic strip to perform switching functions, meaning there are no moving parts to wear. That’s a key reason Koci’s designs work for decades. That and a copper/nickel body with a thick coat of chromium allied with a stainless steel percolator pump. And is it gorgeous to behold or what? I paid $69, shipped.


Contemporary advertisement for the Sunbeam AP10.
Click here for a larger version.

The origin of those curlicues on early versions of the toaster and on his percolator? The 1939 World’s Fair in New York, which Fair included the Perisphere – a gigantic concrete display sphere – and the related Trylon spike.


The Perisphere and Trylon, New York, 1939.

How does the coffee taste compared with a ‘nothing special’ Hamilton Beach drip machine? Well, I’m no connoisseur of coffee. Indeed, I recycled my bean grinder a couple of years ago when I determined there was no difference in taste between fresh ground beans and pre-ground Peet’s French Roast bought in a vacuum sealed package in the supermarket. I tend to view coffee as a caffeine delivery system, and I would rather have a beautiful coffee maker than an ugly one.

Well, suffice it to say that after my first brew – 4 cups of filtered water and 3 heaped tablespoons of regular ground coffee – I am about to beat the world and Olympic records for the high jump. This from a seated position. I set the control dial on medium and the ‘perk’ took 8 minutes. A second try on ‘Stronger’ and I followed up on the new high jump record with a new men’s record for the 100 meters freestyle. By the way, a series of embossed internal markings make the adding of just the right amount of water simple.

After more experimentation I have settled on two level tablespoons of coffee to four cups of water, compared with three heaped ones with the drip maker. That’s approximately half the amount, which will speed the time to recover the cost of the Sunbeam. At the same time I have turned the strength dial from centered to one third of the way to the ‘Milder’ end. This has removed the acidity from the brew and simultaneously reduced the percolation time from 8 to 6 minutes, both reflecting the reduced number of recirculation cycles.

The quality of construction in this American made machine is truly ne plus ultra. Everything fits perfectly without play, the clear dome is a hunk of glass which bayonets out for cleaning and the cord has a robust strain relief to prevent fraying. (Replacement power cords remain available from Amazon). There is no switch – plug it in, unplug it. During a regular perk the illuminated dial extinguishes after 8 minutes of jolly noise. Leave the Sunbeam plugged in and it keeps your coffee warm by cycling the bimetallic strip thermostat.

For coffee caffeine junkies, this is just the ticket.


The strength dial, from Mild to Nuclear.
The light extinguishes once done and cycles to keep the contents warm.


A bayonet fit chunk of glass.
No plastic here.The chrome finish is to die for.


The basket’s perforations are very fine, so little store bought ground coffee does not fall through. In days past you could get coarse ‘percolator grind’! (But see below). The cover for the basket is barely visible on the right. No paper filter is used.

Now my ‘modern’ and quite especially ugly coffee maker has joined the predecessor toaster in the recycling bin. Percolators are still made and can be had new for much the same I paid for a 70 year old one. But the materials are inferior, the finish will probably corrode in no time and the retaining nut for the perc tube base is likely aluminum. Anodic corrosion will see to it that the nut is destroyed in record time as it becomes a sacrificial anode. See here.

Update:. As luck would have it I came across some coarse ground, low acidity coffee:


Primos coffee from Amazon.

Whereas an occasional ground or two manages to escape the filtration basket with regular ground coffee, the coarser grind here sees to it that none do. The coffee is medium roast and low acidity and I have the dial on the Sunbeam turned just a tad to the left of center for an optimal brew.

The Sunbeam Radiant Control toaster

A masterpiece of design.

For an index of cooking articles on this blog click here.

Designed and extensively patented in 1949, the Sunbeam Radiant Control toaster was sold from 1949 through 1995. It was made largely in America with a few manufactured in Canada and a few 230-250 volt models made in Australia.


Note the implication that the toaster makes a perfect wedding gift!
Click here for a larger version.

If the Leica M2 is a cult camera and the BMW Airhead is a cult motorcycle, then it’s only fair to add the Sunbeam to the cult population, because there is nothing in the toaster class made in the last seven decades which compares.

There is not one computer chip or electromagnet in the device. Just like in that Leica and BMW. Nor is there a down/up handle. A system of cantilevers sees to it that the weight of inserted bread lowers your future toast into the fires of hell, and at 1375 watts (from the VR-40-1 model; 1275 watts on earlier models) those fires run a great deal warmer than the 900 watts in your Chinese made piece of garbage. The resulting high temperature sees to it that the surface of the bread is seared to a satisfying crispness while the center remains soft and fluffy.


English muffins, toasted to perfection.

Once operational the innards disclose that the external heating coils are vertical while, mysteriously, the inner pair is tightly wound horizontally. Designer whim? Not a bit of it. This is a ‘Radiant Control’ tool. On insertion of the bread, the horizontal coils lengthen, due to thermal expansion, permitting the mechanism to relax and drop the bread into the body. The lengthening of the coils, once heated, is a mere fraction of a millimeter but a system of levers multiplies that some 175 times to effect the desired result. Ingenious. Vertical outside coils? Read on.

‘Radiant Control’? Never was there a more accurate advertising jingle. A bimetallic strip, shielded from the heat of the adjacent outside vertical coils, well remote owing to their vertical configuration, ‘sees’ the radiated heat emanating from the surface of the bread and releases the mechanism and disconnects power once the bread has reached the desired level of doneness. This means that it’s irrelevant whether the inserted bread is frozen or at room temperature, as the switch solves for radiation not for time. This also means that should you reinsert a toasted slice it will not be burned as the mechanism will recognize the high heat radiation rate and quickly release the toasted bread. Again, ‘Radiant Control’. I’m not sure why you would want to reinsert a toasted slice, but is that clever or what? A related benefit is that the mechanism will automatically adjust doneness whatever the thickness of the inserted bread. Again, it’s not timing anything. It’s sensing the heat radiated from the bread.


Horizontal and vertical heating coils.

While there were minor model differences over the 47 years this toaster was marketed by the Sunbeam Corporation, I can find no evidence that the related changes had any effect on reliability. Early models had lovely Art Deco scribed lines on the enclosure (T20, T20 A/B/C), some had a garish gold logo plate (T35), the doneness adjuster started as a knob concealed under one of the handles (supremely elegant – see the advertisement, above – through T35) then morphed into a slider on the long side (less elegant, if easier to use – T40 and later). But the patented Radiant Control mechanism remained unchanged. The early hidden adjuster design is optimal as, once you have established the color you like in your bread, it does not need adjusting. Thick, thin, moist, dry, frozen or at room temperature, the toaster will adjust the toasting time for the same result. So that control knob can be hidden from sight as it is rarely used. Move the knob fully counterclockwise or the slider all the way to the left and the toaster is turned off and the toast rises.

The functioning of the darkness knob or slider is as elegant as everything else in this device. It simply changes the distance of the radiation sensing bimetallic strip from the bread’s surface.

The Sunbeam has been ‘discovered’, largely I suspect owing to this quite special video from The Technology Connection. So unless you are lucky enough to find one at a yard sale from an uninformed seller, you can forget dreaming of picking one up for $10. A good one will run you $225 and up and if you think that is costly the toaster’s 1949 $25/sales price figures to $425 today. For that amount you could buy 17 WalMart specials or almost one Wolf but all would share the same electromagnets and failure-prone timer chips, making them so much recycled waste sooner rather than later. I got lucky and paid $145 after much searching for my early-1970s model in lovely condition (you really do not want a scratched chrome exterior). If the Sunbeam has a failure mode it’s that the retract/raise mechanism can get sluggish or non-operational, in which case a cleaning and a quick tweak on a hidden adjuster screw fixes what ails it. See “Adjustments”, below.


Beauty and engineering design.

Limitations? The Sunbeam cannot toast bagels. The radiant heat sensing bimetallic strip switch is directed at the center of the toast. This means it will ‘see’ the hole in the bagel and thus the heating coils behind that hole, and release the bagel far too early. Well, let’s face it. The bagel is the last word in sub-optimal design. You want a hole in the middle of your bread? What a rip off. And it’s loaded with oil, not to mention a wet cement-like dough consistency. Yecch! But that’s a minor limitation because each time you use the Sunbeam you will marvel at its ingenuity and sheer physical beauty while you anticipate beautifully toasted bread. And yes, it does English muffins perfectly! The British knew better than to leave a hole in the middle.

As regards bread size, it seems that American bread, like Americans, has grown larger since the late 1950s. The Sunbeam’s slot width is just over 5” so you may have to trim your slice a tad to fit.

As regards thickness, my breakfast favorite, the English muffin, needs a tad of ‘thinning’ to fit without shoving, something I accomplish by gently flattening the muffin before halving by pressing it under a cutting board.

But these are minor adaptations for what remains the best toaster in this universe.

Adjustments:

There are two adjusters on the Sunbeam – mine is the AT-W model. Be sure the toaster is unplugged before adjusting either.

The first, underneath the handle opposite to the cable entry, sets the degree of doneness for a particular setting of the darkness slider. In my case the slider had to be moved almost to full darkness for a medium toasted result. The screw can be seen with the aid of a flashlight and for the AT-W model is slotted. (Earlier models use a 3/32″ Allen screw). A half turn clockwise saw to it that medium toasted bread resulted with the darkness slider in the middle of its range. Stated differently, turning the adjuster screw clockwise means you have to move the slider towards the ‘lighter’ end for the same doneness that prevailed before adjustment. If your toast is too dark, turn that screw counterclockwise. My screw was pretty stiff. What is the right way to gauge whether you have adjusted this correctly? With no toast in the machine, depress the drop mechanism on the ‘One Slice’ side with a wooden spatula and count the seconds it remains engaged. Recall that the switch senses radiant heat when determining the heating time. With no bread in the toaster that will be a very short time as the heat falling on the bimetallic strip/switch will be high. You want the toaster to turn off and release the drop mechanism (‘click’) in 7-8 seconds from commencement of the heating cycle.

The second, visible when the crumb tray is swung open, controls the weight sensitivity of the drop mechanism. It’s a small slotted screw in the center of the chassis. My toaster was reluctant to drop the bread and a full turn counterclockwise on this adjuster screw restored its sensitivity. Drop in a piece of bread or an English muffin and down she goes, no poking or pushing required. If you buy a ‘faulty’ example there’s a very good chance that adjustment of this screw will restore an apparently non-functioning drop mechanism. What’s the right adjustment? Insert the slimmest, lightest piece of toast you are likely to use and make sure it drops without prodding. Keep adjusting that screw CCW, half a turn at a time, until it does.

Safety:

No Sunbeam Radiant Control Toaster came with a polarized (directional) electrical plug. From the T-35-1 model on, the electric switch is a double pole model, meaning the positive and neutral wires are switched, an important safety feature with the non-polarized plug used. If the plug is inserted the wrong way in the socket (and how are you to know the right was as it’s reversible?) or, even if you do know, if the electrician installing your power socket was a klutz and reversed the proper orientation of the positive and neutral wires – not unknown – then you can easily get an electrical shock from touching the wires even with the toaster off. For maximum safety with earlier models, where only the positive wire is switched, it’s a good idea to ensure the toaster is plugged into an outlet on a GFCI circuit. This will immediately trigger the GFCI circuit breaker in the event there is an electrical fault which allows current to flow to ground – like a shorted cord, for example, or a finger touching an earlier model’s wires. Installing a GFCI socket is a whole lot easier than opening up the toaster and rewiring early models for a polarized plug. (There’s a YouTube video out there on how to do this, but the presenter/mechanic is a total klutz). I’m not an EE so take your own advice on this one. Electricity, this Mech Eng has long known, is the work of the devil.

Buying advice:

As there were no dogs in the model line, any well priced Sunbeam will add class and design to your kitchen.

The T-20B added a more robust return mechanism. Models through the T-20C have the gorgeous Art Deco design scribed on the sides. The T20-C replaced the lovely cloth covered cord of earlier models with a more utilitarian rubber one. The T-35 replaces those with a gold logo, if that’s your thing. But these early models really should either be fitted with a three-wire polarized plug/cord for safety or used only with a GFCI socket. The T-35-1 was the first to use a two pole switch – safe – and the VT-40-1 increased power from 1275 to 1375 watts for a shorter toasting cycle. But the less attractive – to my eyes – darkness slider replaced the mostly hidden knob on early models. Thereafter variations on the theme were minor.

Mine is a late model AT-W, meaning it has 1,375 watts of power, the safe two-pole electrical switch, a rubber cord, and plain chrome sides with the frontal darkness slider.

A note about the inventor, Ludvik J. Koci:

From his obituary in the Chicago Tribune – the reference to the ‘Toastmaster’ is erroneous. That was a traditional design toaster from Sunbeam’s competitor, McGraw Electric:

INVENTOR, ENGINEER LUDVIK J. KOCI, 91
By G.J. Zemaitis. Special to the Tribune
Chicago Tribune

Sep 29, 1999 at 12:00 am

Ludvik J. Koci obtained his first patent in the mid-1930s and changed the way Americans lived.

The Chicago-born engineer was granted a patent for a thermostat that allowed him to invent numerous household appliances, including the Sunbeam Toastmaster.

A longtime Oak Brook resident, Mr. Koci died Monday in Lexington Health Care Center of Elmhurst. He was 91.

Mr. Koci was the son of Czech immigrants and the first in his family to attend college.

In a period of four years, he obtained electrical and chemical engineering degrees from the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign and went to work for the Chicago Flexible Shaft Co. in Chicago. The firm later became the Sunbeam Corp., for which he worked for 37 years.

“The family has a large briefcase filled with his patents,” said his daughter Cynthia Veldman. “But he was most proud of the Toastmaster.”

The Toastmaster stood out for its innovative ability to automatically lower and raise bread once it was toasted.

Mr. Koci also held patents for the first electric iron, the first electric coffee percolator, the first electric frying pan, and electric shavers and blankets.

Mr. Koci taught advanced mathematics at the Illinois Institute of Technology. Though an innovative thinker and inventor, he lacked sales skills, his daughter said.

“For the longest time, in the 1960s, we had prototypes of an electric bicycle and electric car that he built. He just could not get anyone interested in manufacturing them,” she said.

One of his inventions, an electronic turn indicator, was dismissed by several automobile manufacturers, which thought the idea was no better than a driver signaling by extending an arm from a moving car, she said.

“My father also loved music, particularly polka. As a young man, he was known as the king of polka,” said his daughter.

For a review of Koci’s gorgeous Sunbeam AP10 coffee percolator, click here.