What do you call a 1985 Ford Van with three xylophone keyboards and some gongs bolted to it?
Not enough xylophones.
I wanted to give the van more presence, approved more weight visually (and, coincidentally enough, literally). So I’m building Keyboard 4 from the same raw aluminum (3-inch by half-inch 6106 T6 aluminum – at right) and monkeyed-together hardware contained in Keyboards 1, 2 and 3 …
Ladies and gentlemen – because I don’t have a “xylophone problem, ” and I can really stop any time I want – I’m building a little whole-note, bi-directional keyboard in C for the hood of the van.
The lowest key will actually stick out near-vertically from the hood, decease with two identical keyboards of 9 notes each spreading away on either side of it. Mounting it’s going to be … fun.
Meanwhile, I got a little overzealous while tuning one of the F keys tonight. I was deepening gouges in the bottom that I had made earlier with the cutting blade mounted on the circular saw, and dug right through …
… to the other side.
Because I am powerful simian. With opposable thumbs. And power tools.
Back from Maker Faire, and there are a million little things to do for our next gig.
We’re going to roll in the Topanga Days Parade on Memorial Day.
Topanga Canyon is a blend of old-school hippie culture and celebrity ranches with long driveways, a beautiful curving road up from the ocean to the San Fernando Valley. Every year, there’s a music festival (this year it’s been headlined by Ziggy Marley, Maria McKee and Canned Heat, which should give you some idea).
Anyway, we applied and were accepted as one of the 50 vehicles in the parade (largely old fire engines and hot rods, so I’m told, but there should be a few floats too)
We’re driving in what’s traditionally the Santa Claus spot in the lineup – the very last.
Between now and then, we’re making mallets to replace the dozens of splintered casualties left by the pummeling of hundreds of kids and aggressive adults at MakerFaire.
I ordered four dozen 3/8ths-inch fiberglass dowels to serve as new sticks (at right). Only one problem: They’re so rigid, heavy and dense that they actually deaden the sound when playing. Instead of a nice “PLONNNNGGGGGG” you get a leaden “THUNGK.”
Fifty bucks down the drain, and now we have to repair the sticks we have left, and battle-harden them …
Here’s video (videos lost when we quit Facebook) of @alienrobot and me mounting Keyboard 2 which is the lower-octave and rear-most of the two keyboards I built for the passenger side of the van:
And here’s what Keyboard 1 looked like as friend Steve Finkel and I mounted it on the driver’s side …
Like a drunk tiptoeing into his AA meeting with actual quitting on his mind, I’m finally ready to quit breaking taps – and pay attention to all the solid advice I’ve been getting along the way.
Tonight, I took it all in hand and put it to work on my one surviving 6mm tapping tool – and the dozen-plus very serious holes I had left to tap:
The machinist recommended I countersink the holes and use cutting fluid … But I had a long way to go – the last 8 holes in the stringers for Keyboard 3, plus the remaining three very deep holes in Keyboard 1’s crosspiece – each of them through a thick, 3-layer sandwich of aluminum.
I started with the drill …
Straight down, through three layers of aluminum, half an inch thick each. Nice, clean, smooth holes. Thanks to the guys at Baller Hardware for assuring me that “any light oil ought to do it” after I realized the only actual tapping fluid they had comes in a huge industrial jug.
I chose 2-stroke engine oil.Then, many thanks to Jeremy and others over at CrashSpace for the invaluable reminder of something I forgot since tapping engine heads more than 20 years ago: For every three or four turns of the tap as you cut the threads, you have to back the tap out a turn or three, to clear out the cuttings that might bind up its tip …
I also followed my own instincts after comparing notes with Vinny, my oldest friend in the world and an inveterate shade-tree mechanic: “You know that point where you *know* you’re turning too hard, but you keep going, and then it snaps” – I tried to stop myself every time I felt the tap binding up to the ppoint where it might snap … and I backed the thing all the way out, cleaned off the metal cuttings, and resumed tapping …
And lo and behold, every single hole was tapped cleanly and safely … and the tap survived.
This let me proceed to building Keyboard 2 …
… and Keyboard 3. We’ll be capping off the mounting screws with locknuts – and god knows what all else – very, very soon.
Keyboard 1 is more than 7 and 2 1/2 octaves long – running from A to high D#.
All that metal is pretty heavy, pharmacy and the weight actually bows the stringers that carry the keys across it, so I’m building in a crosspiece for support. It will run vertically between the top rail and bottom rail, and all four stringers will screw down to it for support.
I lay out the keys then I tighten the frame at the corners along the bottom …
All the geek opinion and doomsaying in the world can’t beat a crusty old Chicano machinist in a crusty old machine shop.
After Googling and dialing all over Hollywood, Los Feliz and Glendale in search of an EDM-equipped shop, I phoned a local machine shop and described my twomistakes.
So I bring it in. Within an hour and a half, I get a call saying “It’s all set.” They drilled in with a carbide bit (probably a better one than I used, and used an extractor on one broken tap, and a punch on the other – and now the holes are cleared.
The guy even took pity on me and told me the secret: countersink the holes from now on before tapping them – and use some cutting oil.
Done. I’ll be attacking that just as soon as the best little hardware store in Silver Lake restocks their 6mm Irwin thread taps. The ones that I seem to keep steadily depleting.
My plans for a productive evening of xylophone-building thus foiled, I turned to slapping together the rest of the frame-mounting hardware.
Unfortunately, the Hollaender company turned out a couple of SpeedRail parts with nasty burrs inside that kept them from sliding onto the 2-inch aluminum tubing that we’re using for xylophone frames.
I tried grinding out the lip on both sides of the mount …
But no luck. The collar still wouldn’t slide on over the tubing …
In machining – as in lovemaking and war – if it hurts, you’re not doing it right.
I seem to keep making the same damn mistake. alienrobot did a great job of tapping most of the mounting holes in Keyboard 1 using just the little 4-inch tap handle that came with the set.
Then I got all clever, applied excessive leverage and snapped a tap off in a hole by using too much leverage. It came out with a pair of pliers … but then I did it again.
And I just did it again tonight. Here’s what it looks like from the back.
Opinions on the CrashSpace forum ranged from “A high-end machine shop will need to use EDM to burn the tap out of there” to “Yep, you’re fully fucked.”
Guess I’ll go look up a machinist. And hope I’m not fully fucked.
For those who haven’t been following along, here’s how it’s done, roughly in order:
First, you read Jim Doble‘s brief but precise instructions for making xylophones. Read ’em again – they’re clearly written, with a basic illustration and links to photos and sound clips, and then find some wood or metal that you can work easily, and get busy:
So I was tapping a stringer on Keyboard 1 and the tap snapped off in the hole.
Below the surface. That’s hardened steel. Drilling it out so I could use a reverse-extractor was fruitless: I blunted, and finally snapped a cobalt bit, which the hardware store said was the hardest thing they sell.
Now WTF do I do? Anyone have any brilliant solutions? Please forward this to all the metalworkers you know.
It’s coming together – more than 15 linear feet of fully chromatic xylophones.
Keyboard 1 and Keyboard 2 are built – (they’ll need to be disassembled for final polishing) and Keyboard 3 (at right) is ready to have its stringers machined.
More on how all this was made tomorrow night. Facedown time.
I’d like to think we’ve known how to build XyloVan from day one, but the truth is – we’re dumb. We’re like sack-of-hammers, short-bus, don’t-get-the-knock-knock-jokes dumb.
We’re like chimps who have seen television, digging around in the back of the live set with screwdrivers. We make dumb mistakes, do dumb things, suffer from dumb ideas. And along the way, stuff gets built.
So this 3-foot-long chunk of 1.5-inch by .5-inch aluminum is one of the four stringers for Keyboard 2. These serve as the airframe for the instrument …
By now, it should be plain that there’s absolutely no linear flow to the XyloVan construction plan.
With Maker Faire bearing down on us in 7 weeks, we’re tackling tasks willy-nilly, like a crew of chimps with A.D.D. and a pound of meth – frenziedly, for long stretches, whether in teams or alone, whenever we’re able.
Tonight, I was alone, so I spent it cutting aluminum stringers to fit the frames and laying out Keyboard 2, which with Keyboard 3 will cover the passenger side of the van.
The full keyboard (about 2.5 octaves) would be seven or eight feet long, but we have to somehow accommodate the van’s sliding door …
The problem was that the xylophone – if bolted to the van with the upper hinge of the frame just below the windows – would have scraped the ground.
Solution: Get a few more Speed-Rail parts and create a sort of offset cantilever hinge. Built right, it should pivot out and away from the van to playing position (about a 20-degree angle from the ground) when deployed, then fold up flat against the van when stowed for travel.
First, I have to modify one of the parts, a sort of T-joint that is too wide to fit between the anchors for the key stringers.
A little circular saw abuse – followed by much cursing and futzing and hollowing out the apparently mis-forged piece so that it actually *fits* over 1.5-inch pipe – and the piece now fits snugly between the stringer ends …
Now that the keys are all cut, price we have to lay out the frame.
As I said, I don’t have strict engineering plans for this thing, I’m going by the seat of my pants. But I know what the materials will be, so I’ve laid out the frame – it’s 1-1/2-inch aluminum scaffold tubing, held together with Hollaender Speed Rail and then the keys ride on custom-fabricated 1/2 x 1-1/2-inch aluminum stringers … More
(video lost when we quit Facebook) Once the keys are cut and rough-tuned, they must be mounted.
Step one is finding the “nodes,” or the dead spots at either end of the key where the metal doesn’t vibrate. This is where I’ll drill holes for mounting.
To do this, you park the key atop two pairs of balled-up socks so it vibrates when struck. Then sprinkle a little salt near either end of the key and whack it repeatedly. The resonating metal bounces the salt away from the most-vibrating part into the nodes, the deadest spot in each key …
I mark each key, then put it on the drillpress and drill a 3/8-inch-diameter hole through each key’s nodes.
Drilling one of the two keyboards (about 30 keys) took the better part of an hour and resulted in several pounds of this fantastic aluminum chaff.