I love Mr. Wizard. I watched him when I was a kid. My favorite trick was sucking a hard-boiled egg into a milk bottle by lighting a match to create a vacuum in the bottle. When I'd watch his show, I'd wonder, "Why can't THIS be on all the time? Why do they bother with news and soap operas?"

I grew up in the suburbs of the San Fernando Valley, CA. As a young woman, still in community college (where I hid from the world for six years), I cleaned houses.

I got a client way out in Chatsworth. He lived among the sandstone boulders, lizards and sage in a custom-built house that crawled up a hill side. He had the oddest things lying around the place: crystals and shells, celestial globes and cultural artifacts. I had convinced myself that he, at least (his wife seemed too conservative), was a Pagan.

He spent most of his time in his office on the lower floor. He stayed pretty busy down there. I generally only spoke with him when I was down there to do laundry or when he came up for a snack. He was cheerful and inquisitive, friendly and welcoming even to me, the housekeeper.

One day, he invited me out to his patio. He handed me a cutting of the Creeping Charlie vine that hung from the open rafters. I thanked him, but said I had plenty of Creeping Charlies all over my home.

He said, "Look more closely."

So I did.

Carefully and strongly "glued" among the stems and leaves was a perfect, little hummingbird nest. He had been waiting for the babies to vacate before he presented it to me. The Creeping Charlie is long since dead; I still have the nest.

That day, he asked me if I knew who he was.

"Of course," I said, "you're Don Herbert; you're my boss."

He snickered shyly and looked at his feet.

Very quietly, and with some discomfort, he said, "I'm Mr. Wizard."

I was thrilled. I was working for and becoming friends with one of my childhood heroes. He'd work quietly in his downstairs office as I cleaned the upstairs rooms. I tried not to bother him. He was in pre-production of his new series, "Mr. Wizard's World," for Nickelodeon.

No, I don't remember why I stopped working for him; I probably moved too far away. No, I didn't keep in touch with him; that seemed presumptuous. But I will never forget that lozenge-yellow dappled patio, the hummingbird nest in my hands, his quiet voice. It was like my birthday, graduation and a family reunion, all rolled into one.

Mr. Wizard was the first person to electrocute a pickle on national television. He did it on "The Tonight Show With Johnny Carson."

Creativity is thinking outside the box. It's taking two, seemingly-dissimilar things, putting them together some way and making a totally new, often better, thing.

For instance, cat litter soaks up oil drips in the driveway; grinding a lemon freshens a garbage disposal. Flour and water make a pretty good wood putty.

Some people take this art form to some pretty peculiar extremes. Penn and Teller are illusionists, magicians. They take normal, household objects and create brilliant and disgusting illusions. They wrote a book, How To Play With Your Food. It's full of nasty tricks, among which is the Electric Pickle. They didn't invent nor discover the Electric Pickle. But they've done a lot to popularize it.

Before we go on, I must be fair and let you see an actual, electric pickle. I found it quite unfair that I was hearing about them, but not actually seeing one. It's pretty unimpressive, huh? Probably had to be there. Thanks to "The Pickle As Will And Idea" for the photo. "Gherkins, Weird Science and Mathematical Oddments" has fairly decent, close-up pics of electric pickles, too. But I'm including this page because I love the links at the bottom.

Speaking of links, "The World Wierd [sic] Web" lists the illuminated pickle along with anti-tomatoes and sushi jello.

At the time Mr. Wizard was demonstrating electric pickles before a national TV audience, he couldn't explain exactly why they glow. Subsequent research shows that the combination of acid in the vinegar and ionization in the salt react to electric current. This is explained at "Fun Stuff: Electric Pickle."

It seems it's not actually the pickle which is glowing. It's the pickle vapor. See, the current heats the pickle juice (which is mostly brine and vinegar) to above boiling at the points where the electrodes are inserted into the pickle. While it's hot, the vapor is invisible. But as it cools, it emits light. So, they're actually illuminating pickle gas. Who knew?

I know, you can't wait to make a pickle lamp now, can you? Do you remember all those bad, B-movies, where the bad guy kills some innocent person in the bathtub by throwing in the electric hair drier? Do you realize that hair drier runs on a mere 120 volts of household current? Do you understand that, while containing vinegar and pickle juice, the main ingredient of a pickle is water?

Do NOT Try This At Home!

I will tell you how to electrocute a pickle for two reasons. The first is because I'm a journalist and believe in freedom of information. The second is because I respect science and know that knowing the facts is far more healthy than fearing them. "Electric Pickle Instructions" will explain the procedure.

I don't care if you're an adult or a child; don't do this unsupervised! Two heads are better than one. Have a fire extinguisher ready. Never attempt to extinguish an electrical fire with water! Do it away from flammable materials. Put a fuse on your electricity source. Follow the instructions exactly; don't "fudge" on materials. And please don't let the forks touch! Every, single site I've seen which explains how to illuminate pickles says, "Don't try this at home," somewhere in the site.

Another good site on how to illuminate preserved cucumbers is Electric Pickle. It suggests using a voltmeter to register the charge. It offers very useful tips on procedure. And, it shows pictures of electric pickles in a darkened room! They look like anemic aquarium lights

Don't try it at a kegger, either.

Speaking of keggers, some physicists (more likely, some physics students at college) have put together a page on several interesting subjects, including the electric pickle. Among their research projects: Smoke Ring Vortices, Why Bikes Don't Fall Over While Ridden, Hot Air Balloons Vs. Tea Bags And Just Plain Hot Air. A mind might be a terrible thing to waste, but there are no rules when it comes to Daddy's money.

My editor, RainSong, e-mailed me a link, "Characterization Of Organic Illumination Systems." So, it's actually her fault you're reading about electric pickle gas. Anyway, this site is a real research paper, investigating the properties of "dill" and "kosher" pickles which cause them to glow when household (120 volt) current passes through them.

They compared pickles to mandarin oranges and stir-fried bok choy. They tested several types of pickles against each other.

After electrocuting the pickles, they compared "before" and "after" flavor differences.

They discussed the feasibility of pickle lamps compared to incandescent bulbs and concluded that cucumbers take weeks to grow and light bulbs can be manufactured in seconds.

They even compared pickles to black olives, trying to get a broader spectrum of light than just green yellow.

Aren't research grants wonderful?

Another research project, "Investigation into the luminescent effects of high voltage on pickled foodstuffs," was very thorough in: their use of equipment, their project outline and descriptions, their photographic documentation.

However, they used gherkins, which are sweet, as opposed to koshers or dills, which are salty. It's the excited sodium ions which cause the glow, boys.

They had better luck with the pickled onions, but made the error of attributing their success to the relative size and shape of the onion compared to the pickle. Pickled onions are salty and in vinegar.

Several experimenters have noted the impressive amounts of smoke one gets from electrocuting sweet pickles as compared to brine pickles. But this is a discussion of pickle illumination, as opposed to pickle flares and, therefore, smoking gherkins are beyond the scope of this article.

Electric Pickle Players, of Nashville, Tennessee, is an improvisational comedy troupe. At the end of their performances, they frequently electrocute pickles. They perform at Guido's Pizzeria on Friday nights at 8:30 p.m.

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