Warning: Nerd Alert – if you’re not into science and the skillful application of lasers to burn, burst, or melt objects you may want to skip this chapter.

I’m very fond of all things science, but especially lasers. I got my first one when I was about 14-years-old, and over the years, my interests in lasers only grew. For a while I even worked at a company in southern Arizona that made an array of laser scanners for military, industrial and commercial uses. In fact, when the space shuttle Challenger was destroyed due to cold O-rings, my company got a phone message from the contractor who built the solid rocket boosters, Morton Thiokol, inquiring as to whether we could build a laser flatness detector (more properly a laser interferometer), which works by the same mechanism that creates the holograms like on your credit cards.

I also personally had more gas lasers to play with ranging from other HeNe units, to a helium-cadmium (HeCad) laser that had a lovely purple output and a suitcase sized power supply with massive cooling fans, and a key switch for safety.

Eventually diode lasers, which required no gas tube or crazy power supplies became low enough in cost that I could afford them, and one of my first applications of a hand held laser pointer was convincing Kyle, who was then 4-years-old, that the dot near the ceiling was actually a “Tooth Fairy Helper” that came around to check on kids brushing their teeth because the actual tooth fairy was busy doling out cash to sleeping kids. Later I bought a set of snap-on caps for it that projected patterns of laser light, including one that was a little angel with wings, which I convinced Kyle was the actual tooth fairy, not just a tiny representative. I even took a photo of the kid sleeping with the “fairy” projected onto his forehead. When he saw the money under his pillow and the photographic evidence, he promptly explained to anyone who would listen that the tooth fairy was not only real, but he’d seen a photo of the magical being.

The power output of the lasers I had also increased dramatically. The earliest little HeNe lasers I had were 1-2mW (or 1-2 thousandths of a watt), though some were as high as 5mW. That’s a relatively low output, but still bright enough to damage your eyes if you looked straight into it. Later I had a few that were about 20 times as powerful as that, and then I eventually got a 1 watt laser that could easily burst balloons. Like with a thumb tack, only from a distance and at a much greater cost. Again, for science.

Finally, my latest acquisition is a full 3-watt (or 3,000 mW) device that bears a striking, and likely intentional, resemblance to a Star Wars light saber. If the 1-watt laser hits your skin it feels like a bee sting, but the 3-watt actually hurts and will blister your skin in a fraction of a second. And while even a small laser pointer can permanently damage your eyes, this thing can blind you if it reflects off of anything accidentally. In fact, the purple dot it produces is painful to look at on a light colored wall, and if it hits a dark colored object, it’ll absorb most of the radiation and often easily bore a hole through it and/or start a fire. Which of course is why I wanted one.

When the 3-watt arrived, I was gleeful as a kid on Christmas morning. I unpacked it and put the batteries into it, put on the safety glasses that came with it, and turned it on. To say I was impressed is an understatement. I immediately enlisted Kyle’s help, and in a typical yet stunning display of lack of parental responsibility, had him hold a balloon out while wearing the laser safety glasses so I could pop it. I stood across the room and turned on the laser and both of us were startled by the balloon bursting the instant the laser hit it. Rina disapproved vocally when she saw the video later, concerned mostly for the TV that was behind the balloon.

I’ve kept friends up to date on my attempts to use the laser for various nefarious things but one of the more impressive was video of the laser lighting a bunch of steel wool on fire:

After that, various suggestions were made until finally someone mentioned an Oreo cookie. Intrigued, that evening I put it to the test and the following day our online chat went like this:

Matt: I used the 3 watt laser on an Oreo mini. Surprisingly, it did not burst into flames, despite the high sugar content. At the end you can see an earlier hole I bored through it, and then I decided to cut it across the diameter. I got about a centimeter and then I picked it up and went to snap it in half unaware that the chocolate had liquified at the temperature of magma inside.

 

Matt: So it melted to my finger and gave me a blister. And while I was yelling ouch, I popped it into my mouth. And it tasted like burned happiness and joy.

Friend #1: Taste good?

Matt: All in all, a very disappointing experiment. Tasted like ash. Then my wife complained about the smell of burning cookies and told me to put it away. She hates science.

Friend #1: Isn’t still hot? The moment you put it into your mouth?

Matt: No! It cooled extremely rapidly.

Friend #1: Wow

Matt: I guess the molten chocolate magma was cooled off while it was burning my finger.

Friend #1: Can you use the laser to cut pizza?

Matt: “Could” or “Should”? This is a visible light laser so it heats by pumping massive amounts of energy into a tiny area. That causes the molecules to vibrate which creates heat. Buuuuut, that means reflective surfaces don’t absorb enough radiation to get hot. Cheese is pretty close to white, so I expect it’d take about 295 years to get through a personal pan crust Italian garlic supreme with no pepperoni*. So the take away is I need a bigger laser.

Friend #1: Haha

Matt: And of course my wife said “no”.

Friend #2: Next time my wife complains about something I do, i’m gonna show her one of your laser videos and say at least I’m not that guy.

Matt: I get that a surprising amount of the time. I needed a radiation absorber to shoot the beam into when breaking balloons, etc. For this laser it’s essentially a heavy plastic box with a hole in it and a dark surface that has a very high melting point. The obvious candidate was one of her slate stone coasters so I epoxied it inside. Then she noticed one was missing and when I told her where it was she got upset. Then I accused her of wanting me to use it unsafely. This is a fairly typical night at our house.

* Not an actual calculation.