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Blending science and spectacle, fireworks have been entertaining crowds and marking important holidays for centuries. Chinese chemists are said to have discovered the formula for explosive powder by accident, while a famous explorer kick-started an Italian craze for bigger and more beautiful displays. Even a future U.S. President opined on the virtue of “illuminations” for public celebrations. Let’s shed some light on fireworks with the six facts below.

The World’s First Fireworks Were Developed in China

The precursors to fireworks were simple bamboo sticks thrown into bonfires, which popped loudly when the air inside the bamboo’s chambers heated up and burst. Chinese villagers were using these rudimentary fireworks to celebrate the new year and ward off nefarious spirits by the second century BCE.

Legend suggests that around 1000 CE, Chinese alchemists stumbled upon the formula for gunpowder and applied the discovery to weapons of war. During the Song dynasty (960 to 1276 CE), people began packing gunpowder into paper tubes and lighting them on fire. They also created bunches of firecrackers tied together so that the initial explosion would start a chain reaction.

Marco Polo Reportedly Brought Fireworks to Europe

When Marco Polo returned to Venice from Asia at the end of the 13th century, he brought back a number of curious items. Among them were fireworks, which he reportedly introduced, or at least helped popularize, in the region that is now Italy. During the Renaissance, metallurgists in Florence created fireworks displays during religious holidays, Romans set them off after the elections of popes, and firework shows were popular theater at court in Ferrara. Italian craftspeople developed colored fireworks in the 1830s, and the tradition lives on. Two of the largest American fireworks companies today, Zambelli and Fireworks by Grucci, were founded by Italian immigrants in the 19th century.

Firework Shells Contain Six Simple Components

In pyrotechnic parlance, a shell is a bundle of explosive materials that forms the nucleus of a firework. They’re usually packaged in a paper tube in a specific order. In the center of the shell are tiny cubes of chemicals, called stars; other compounds to create special effects; a bursting charge; and an internal time fuse connected to a packet of black powder called the lifting charge. A fuse leads from the lifting charge to the exterior of the shell.

When the fuse is lit, it eventually ignites the lifting charge, sending the shell into the sky. As it rises, the flame burns through the internal time fuse to the bursting charge, which explodes the whole shell in a shower of colored sparks.

There Would Be No Fireworks Without Chemistry

Specifically, the chemistry that creates black powder, also known as gunpowder. The standard mix for the black powder used in modern fireworks hasn’t changed much in the last few centuries: It’s a combination of 75% potassium nitrate (saltpeter), 15% charcoal, and 10% sulfur. When ignited, the sulfur melts over the charcoal and saltpeter, which combust and cause the explosion.

There is chemistry in fireworks colors as well. Specific chemical compounds in the stars release different wavelengths of light when ignited. Strontium salts create red fireworks, barium salts make green, and sodium salts create yellow. Blue, made by copper salts, is the hardest color to achieve; too much copper and the explosions are too dark to be seen at night, while too little copper makes the fireworks appear plain white.

Fourth of July Fireworks Displays Are Almost as Old as the United States

The Second Continental Congress declared the American colonies’ freedom from British control on July 2, 1776, a day that Massachusetts delegate John Adams called “the most memorable Epocha, in the History of America.” In a letter to his wife Abigail, Adams continued: “It ought to be solemnized with Pomp and Parade, with Shews, Games, Sports, Guns, Bells, Bonfires and Illuminations from one End of this Continent to the other from this Time forward forever more.” On July 4, 1777 (the first anniversary of Congress’ adoption of the final Declaration of Independence), that’s exactly what happened, though it wasn’t all Adams’ idea. Fireworks had been a part of public patriotic festivals for centuries by that time.

Fireworks Helped Inspire the Anti-Noise Movement

While fireworks are a visual spectacle, they also produce a lot of noise. Social reformers concerned about the din’s effect on people’s health and safety formed the Society for the Suppression of Unnecessary Noise in New York City in December 1906. Led by physician Julia Barnett Rice, the group convinced lawmakers to regulate steamboat whistles, train noise, and fireworks. In an essay titled “Our Barbarous Fourth,” Rice condemned the cacophony of ceaseless firecrackers and “every noisy device from the tin trumpet to the dangerous pistol.” The society eventually convinced city officials to establish noise-free quiet zones around hospitals and facilities serving poor residents.

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While the things we see and use daily may sometimes be considered mundane, there’s more to them than you might imagine. Did you know that the stick (like the ones you may have just raked up in your yard) was inducted into the National Toy Hall of Fame? When you ate a bagel for breakfast, did you think back to its days as a gift for new mothers? Learn about these stories and more with some mind-expanding facts about everyday items collected from around our website.

Original photo by Joe Hendrickson/ iStock

Love Seats Were Originally Designed To Fit Women’s Dresses, Not Couples

The two-seater upholstered benches we associate with cozy couples were initially crafted with another duo in mind: a woman and her dress. Fashionable attire in 18th-century Europe had reached voluminous proportions — panniers (a type of hooped undergarment) were all the rage, creating a wide-hipped silhouette that occasionally required wearers to pass through doors sideways. Upper-class women with funds to spare adopted billowing skirts that often caused an exhausting situation: the inability to sit down comfortably (or at all). Furniture makers of the period caught on to the need for upsized seats that would allow women with large gowns a moment of respite during social calls.

As the 1800s rolled around, so did new dress trends. Women began shedding heavy layers of hoops and skirts for a slimmed-down silhouette that suddenly made small settees spacious. The midsize seats could now fit a conversation companion. When sweethearts began sitting side by side, the bench seats were renamed “love seats,” indicative of how courting couples could sit together for a (relatively) private conversation in public. The seat’s new use rocketed it to popularity, with some featuring frames that physically divided young paramours. While the small sofas no longer act as upholstered chaperones, love seats are still popular — but mostly because they fit well in small homes and apartments.

Bagels Were Once Given as Gifts to Women After Childbirth

After a woman has had a bun in the oven for nine months, presenting her with a bagel might seem like a strange choice. But some of the earliest writings on bagels relate to the idea of giving them as gifts to women after labor. Many historians believe that bagels were invented in the Jewish community of Krakow, Poland, during the early 17th century. Their circular shape echoes the round challah bread eaten on the Jewish new year, Rosh Hashanah. Enjoying round challah is meant to bring good luck, expressing the hope that endless blessings — goodness without end — will arrive in the coming year. Likewise, in Krakow centuries ago, a bagel signified the circle of life and longevity for the child.

Community records in Krakow advised that bagels could be bestowed on both expectant and new moms. They were also regarded as a thoughtful gift for midwives. In addition to the symbolism of the round shape, the bread was believed to bring a pregnant woman or midwife good fortune in a delivery by casting aside evil spirits. Some pregnant women even wore bagels on necklaces as protection, or ensured bagels were present in the room where they gave birth.

The Tiny Pocket in Your Jeans Was Created To Store Pocket Watches

Ever notice the tiny pocket-within-a-pocket in your jeans? As a kid you may have put small change in there, whereas most adults tend to forget it even exists. Despite all the names it’s had throughout time — “frontier pocket,” “coin pocket,” and “ticket pocket” being just a few — it originally had a specific purpose that didn’t pertain to any of those objects: It was a place to put your watch.

Originally called waist overalls when Levi Strauss & Co. first began making them in 1879, the company’s jeans have always had this dedicated spot for pocket watches — especially those worn by miners, carpenters, and the like. They only had three other pockets (one on the back and two on the front) at the time, making the watch pocket especially prominent. As for why it’s stuck around, the answer seems to be a familiar one: People were used to it and no one felt inclined to phase it out.

Pen Caps Have Holes for Safety Reasons

If you’ve ever gotten bored enough to study the cap of your ballpoint pen, you may have noticed that it has a hole in it. The hole wasn’t created to save on plastic or to regulate air pressure. Rather, the design is meant to prevent people — namely small children — from choking should they ever swallow a cap. This was first done by BIC, whose popular Cristal pen had a cap that proved more desirable among undiscerning children than safety-conscious parents would have liked. So while the conspiracy-minded among us tend to think that the holes are there to dry out the ink and ensure that consumers will have to continue buying pens in mass quantities, this particular design choice was actually made with public health in mind.

The World’s First Vending Machine Dispensed Holy Water

Democracy, theater, olive oil, and other bedrocks of Western civilization all got their start with the Greeks. Even some things that might seem like squarely modern inventions have Hellenistic roots, including the humble vending machine. In the first century CE, Greek engineer and mathematician Heron of Alexandria published a two-volume treatise on mechanics called Pneumatica. Within its pages was an assortment of mechanical devices capable of all types of wonders: a never-ending wine cup, rudimentary automatic doors, singing mechanical birds, various automata, the world’s first steam engine, and a coin-operated vending machine.

Heron’s invention wasn’t made with Funyuns and Coca-Cola in mind, however: It dispensed holy water. In Heron’s time, Alexandria was a province of the Greek empire and home to a cornucopia of religions with Roman, Greek, and Egyptian influences. To stand out, many temples hired Heron to supply mechanical miracles meant to encourage faith in believers. Some of these temples also had holy water, and experts believe Heron’s vending machine was invented to moderate acolytes who took too much of it. The mechanism was simple enough: When a coin was inserted in the machine, it weighed down a balancing arm, which in turn pulled a string opening a plug on a container of liquid. Once the coin dropped off the arm, the liquid stopped flowing. It would be another 1,800 years before modern vending machines began to take shape — many of them using the same principles as Heron’s miraculous holy water dispenser.

The Ancient Romans Thought Eating Butter Was Barbaric

Our friends in ancient Rome indulged in a lot of activities that we would find unseemly today — like gladiators fighting to the death — but they drew the line at eating butter. To do so was considered barbaric, with Pliny the Elder going so far as to call butter “the choicest food among barbarian tribes.” In addition to a general disdain for drinking too much milk, Romans took issue with butter specifically because they used it for treating burns and thus thought of it as a medicinal salve, not a food.

They weren’t alone in their contempt. The Greeks also considered the dairy product uncivilized, and “butter eater” was among the most cutting insults of the day. In both cases, this can be partly explained by climate — butter didn’t keep as well in warm southern climates as it did in northern Europe, where groups such as the Celts gloried in their butter. Instead, the Greeks and Romans relied on olive oil, which served a similar purpose. To be fair, though, Romans considered anyone who lived beyond the empire’s borders (read: most of the world) to be barbarians, so butter eaters were in good company.

Honey Never Expires

As long as it’s stored properly, honey will never expire. Honey has an endless shelf life, as proven by the archaeologists who unsealed King Tut’s tomb in 1923 and found containers of honey within it. After performing a not-so-scientific taste test, researchers reported the 3,000-year-old honey still tasted sweet.

Honey’s preservative properties have a lot to do with how little water it contains. Some 80% of honey is made up of sugar, with only 18% being water. Having so little moisture makes it difficult for bacteria and microorganisms to survive. Honey is also so thick, little oxygen can penetrate — another barrier to bacteria’s growth. Plus, the substance is extremely acidic, thanks to a special enzyme in bee stomachs called glucose oxidase. When mixed with nectar to make honey, the enzyme produces gluconic acid and hydrogen peroxide, byproducts that lower the sweetener’s pH level and kill off bacteria.

Despite these built-in natural preservatives, it is possible for honey to spoil if it’s improperly stored. In a sealed container, honey is safe from humidity, but when left open it can absorb moisture that makes it possible for bacteria to survive. In most cases, honey can be safely stored for years on end, though the USDA suggests consuming it within 12 months for the best flavor.

The Name for a Single Spaghetti Noodle Is “Spaghetto”

If you go into an Italian restaurant and order spaghetto, chances are you’ll leave hungry. That’s because “spaghetto” refers to just a lone pasta strand; it’s the singular form of the plural “spaghetti.” Other beloved Italian foods share this same grammatical distinction— one cannoli is actually a “cannolo,” and it’s a single cheese-filled “raviolo” or “panino” sandwich. Though this may seem strange given that these plural terms are so ingrained in the English lexicon, Italian language rules state that a word ending in -i means it’s plural, whereas an -o or -a suffix (depending on whether it’s a masculine or feminine term) denotes singularity. (Similarly, “paparazzo” is the singular form of the plural “paparazzi.”) As for the term for the beloved pasta dish itself, “spaghetti” was inspired by the Italian word spago, which means “twine” or “string.”

Couches and Sofas Aren’t the Same Thing

Though usually used interchangeably, these are technically two different pieces of furniture — and the distinction lies in the words themselves. “Couch” comes to us from French, namely coucher — “to lie down” — whereas we have the Arabic word suffah to thank for “sofa.” In the most traditional sense, a sofa would be a wooden bench that comes complete with blankets and cushions and is intended for sitting. eBay’s selling guide used to distinguish between the two by defining a couch as “a piece of furniture with no arms used for lying.” Though it may be a distinction without a difference these days, purists tend to think of sofas as a bit more formal and couches as something you’d take a nap on and let your pets hang out on.

U.S. Pools Were Originally Designed to Keep the Masses Clean

Boston’s Cabot Street Bath was the nation’s first indoor municipal pool. Founded in 1868, the pool was on the bleeding edge of what would become a boom in baths designed to help the working classes clean up. The short-lived facility (it was open for only eight years) was soon followed by municipal baths and pools all over the nation, especially in cities with growing immigrant populations whose tenement apartments didn’t contain adequate bathing facilities.

In New York, starting in 1870, river water filled floating, poollike public baths that, according to one onlooker, were as filthy as “floating sewers.” Eventually, by about the mid-20th century, the city’s river baths morphed into the indoor pools we know today — though the city does still have some seasonal outdoor pools.

There Are Golf Balls on the Moon

On February 6, 1971, Alan Shepard took one small shot for golf and one giant swing for golfkind. An astronaut on the Apollo 14 landing, Shepard was also a golf enthusiast who decided to bring his hobby all the way to the moon — along with a makeshift club fashioned partly from a sample-collection device. He took two shots, claiming that the second went “miles and miles.” The United States Golf Association (USGA) later put the actual distance of his two strokes at about 24 yards and 40 yards, respectively.

While not enough to land him a spot on the PGA Tour, those numbers are fairly impressive when you remember that the stiff spacesuit Shepard was wearing (in low gravity, no less) forced him to swing with one arm. And while those two golf balls remain on the moon, Shepard brought his club back, later donating it to the USGA Museum in Liberty Corner, New Jersey. Other objects now residing on the moon include photographs, a small gold olive branch, and a plaque that reads: “Here men from the planet Earth first set foot upon the Moon July 1969, A.D. We came in peace for all mankind.”

The Inventor of the Stop Sign Never Learned How To Drive

Few people have had a larger or more positive impact on the way we drive than William Phelps Eno, sometimes called the “father of traffic safety.” The New York City-born Eno — who invented the stop sign around the dawn of the 20th century — once traced the inspiration for his career to a horse-drawn-carriage traffic jam he experienced as a child in Manhattan in 1867: “There were only about a dozen horses and carriages involved, and all that was needed was a little order to keep the traffic moving,” he later wrote. “Yet nobody knew exactly what to do; neither the drivers nor the police knew anything about the control of traffic.”

After his father’s death in 1898 left him with a multimillion-dollar inheritance, Eno devoted himself to creating a field that didn’t otherwise exist: traffic management. He developed the first traffic plans for New York, Paris, and London. In 1921, he founded the Washington, D.C.-based Eno Center for Transportation, a research foundation on multimodal transportation issues that still exists. One thing Eno didn’t do, however, is learn how to drive. Perhaps because he had such extensive knowledge of them, Eno distrusted automobiles and preferred riding horses. He died in Connecticut at the age of 86 in 1945 having never driven a car.

The Stick Has Been Inducted Into the National Toy Hall of Fame

From teddy bears to train sets, classic playthings of youth often conjure memories of a gleaming toy store, holidays, or birthdays. So curators at the Strong National Museum of Play branched out when they added the stick to their collection of all-time beloved toys. Among the most versatile amusements, sticks have inspired central equipment in several sports, including baseball, hockey, lacrosse, fencing, cricket, fishing, and pool. Humble twigs are also ready-made for fetch, slingshots, toasting marshmallows, and boundless make-believe.

Located in Rochester, New York — about 70 miles northeast of Fisher-Price’s headquarters — the Strong acquired the fledgling National Toy Hall of Fame in 2002. (It was previously located in the Gilbert House Children’s Museum in Salem, Oregon.) To date, 74 toys have been inducted, including Crayola Crayons, Duncan Yo-Yos, and bicycles. The stick was added in 2008, three years after another quintessential source of cheap childhood delight: the cardboard box.

Eggo Waffles Were Originally Called Froffles

The brothers behind your favorite frozen waffles took a while to iron out the details of their signature product. Working in their parents’ basement in San Jose, California, in the early 1930s, Frank, Anthony, and Sam Dorsa first whipped up their own brand of mayonnaise. Since the base ingredient of mayonnaise is egg yolks — and the brothers took pride in using “100% fresh ranch eggs” — they christened their fledgling company “Eggo.” Despite launching the business during the Great Depression, Eggo mayonnaise sold like hotcakes, motivating the Dorsas to extend their product line. Soon, they were selling waffle batter — another egg-based product. To simplify shipping, they also whipped up a powdered mix that required only the addition of milk.

When the frozen food industry took off in the 1950s, the brothers wanted to take advantage of the rush to the freezer aisle. Frank Dorsa (a trained machinist) repurposed a carousel engine into a rotating device that could anchor a series of waffle irons, each cooking a breakfast treat that was flipped by a factory employee. The machine allowed Eggo to prepare thousands of freezer-bound waffles per hour. These debuted in grocery stores in 1953 under the name “Froffles,” a portmanteau of “frozen” and “waffles.” Customers referred to them simply as “Eggos,” and the Froffles moniker was dropped within two years. Now a Kellogg’s-owned brand, Eggo serves up waffles as well as other frozen breakfast treats, with mayonnaise — and the name Froffles — but a distant memory.

Canned Food Was Invented Before the Can Opener

On January 5, 1858, Ezra J. Warner of Connecticut invented the can opener. The device was a long time coming: Frenchman Nicolas Appert had developed the canning process in the early 1800s in response to a 12,000-franc prize the French government offered to anyone who could come up with a practical method of preserving food for Napoleon’s army. Appert devised a process for sterilizing food by half-cooking it, storing it in glass bottles, and immersing the bottles in boiling water, and he claimed the award in 1810. Later the same year, Englishman Peter Durand received the first patent for preserving food in actual tin cans — which is to say, canned food predates the can opener by nearly half a century.

Though he didn’t initially know why his method of storing food in glass jars and heating them worked, years of experimentation led Appert to rightly conclude that “the absolute deprivation from contact with the exterior air” and “application of the heat in the water-bath” were key. He later switched to working with cans himself. Before Warner’s invention, cans were opened with a hammer and chisel — a far more time-consuming approach than the gadgets we’re used to. Warner’s tool (employed by soldiers during the Civil War) wasn’t a perfect replacement, however: It used a series of blades to puncture and then saw off the top of a can, leaving a dangerously jagged edge. As for the hand-crank can opener most commonly used today, that wasn’t invented until 1925.

Before Erasers, People Used Bread To Rub Out Pencil Marks

The very first pencils arrived around the dawn of the 17th century, after graphite (the real name for the mineral that forms a pencil’s “lead”) was discovered in England’s Lake District. But the eraser didn’t show up until the 1770s, at the tail end of the Enlightenment. So what filled the roughly 170-year-long gap? Look no further than the bread on your table. Back in the day, artists, scientists, government officials, and anyone else prone to making mistakes would wad up a small piece of bread and moisten it ever so slightly. The resulting ball of dough erased pencil marks on paper almost as well as those pink creations found on the end of No. 2 pencils today.

But in 1770, English chemist Joseph Priestly (best known for discovering oxygen) wrote about “a substance excellently adapted to the purpose of wiping from paper the marks of a black lead pencil.” This substance, then known as caoutchouc, was so perfect for “rubbing” out pencil marks that it soon became known simply as “rubber.” Even today, people in the U.K. still refer to erasers as “rubbers.” (The name “lead-eater” never quite caught on.)

The First Smartphone Debuted in 1992

On January 9, 2007, Apple CEO Steve Jobs revealed the iPhone to the world. Since then, Apple’s pricey slab of glass stuffed with technology has become more or less synonymous with the word “smartphone” (sorry, Android fans). But smartphones predate the iPhone by more than a decade. To pinpoint the smartphone’s true birthdate, look back to November 23, 1992, and the introduction of IBM’s Simon at a trade show in Las Vegas. Today, IBM is best known for supercomputers, IT solutions, and enterprise software, but in the ’80s and early ’90s the company was a leader in consumer electronics — a position it hoped to solidify with Simon.

Simon was a smartphone in every sense of the word. It was completely wireless and had a digital assistant, touchscreen, built-in programs (calculator, to-do list, calendar, sketch pad, and more), and third-party apps, something even the original iPhone didn’t have. The idea was so ahead of its time, there wasn’t even a word for it yet — “smartphone” wasn’t coined for another three years. Instead, its full name when it debuted to the larger public in 1993 was the Simon Personal Communicator, or IBM Simon for short. But there’s a reason there isn’t a Simon in everyone’s pocket today. For one thing, the phone had only one hour of battery life. Once it died, it was just a $900 brick (technology had a long way to go before smartphones became pocket-sized; Simon was 8 inches long by 2.5 inches wide). Cell networks were still in their infancy, so reception was spotty at best, which is why the Simon came with a port for plugging into standard phone jacks. In the mid-aughts, increases in carrier capacity and the shrinking of electronic components created the perfect conditions for the smartphones of today. Unfortunately for Simon, it was too late.

Britain Used To Have a Special Tax on Windows

Governments worldwide have levied taxes for thousands of years; the oldest recorded tax comes from Egypt around 3000 BCE. But England — which relied heavily on taxes to fund its military conquests — is known for a slate of fees that modern taxpayers might consider unusual. Take, for instance, the so-called “window tax,” initially levied in 1696 by King William III, which annually charged citizens a certain amount based on the windows in their homes. Some 30 years before, the British crown had attempted to tax personal property based on chimneys, but clever homeowners could avoid the bill by temporarily bricking up or dismantling their hearths and chimneys before inspections. With windows, assessors could quickly determine a building’s value from the street. The tax was progressive, charging nothing for homes with few or no windows and increasing the bill for dwellings that had more than 10 (that number would eventually shrink to seven).

Not surprisingly, homeowners and landlords throughout the U.K. resented the tax. It didn’t take long for windows to be entirely bricked or painted over (much like fireplaces had been), and new homes were built with fewer windows altogether. Opponents called it a tax on “light and air” that hurt public health, citing reduced ventilation that in turn encouraged disease. Even famed author Charles Dickens joined the fight to dismantle the tax, publishing scathing pieces aimed at Parliament on behalf of poor citizens who were most impacted by the lack of fresh air. Britain repealed its window tax in July 1851, but the architectural impact is still evident — many older homes and buildings throughout the U.K. still maintain their iconic converted windows.

Philadelphia Cream Cheese Isn’t Actually From Philadelphia

The City of Brotherly Love has clear-cut claims on many food origins — cheesesteaks, stromboli, and even root beer. But one thing’s for sure: Despite the name, Philadelphia Cream Cheese is definitely not from Philly. The iconic dairy brand secured its misleading name (and gold-standard status) thanks to a marketing ploy that’s been working for more than 150 years … and it’s all because of Pennsylvania’s reputation for impeccable dairy. Small Pennsylvania dairies of the 18th and early 19th centuries were known for using full-fat milk and cream to make rich cheeses — in contrast to New York dairies, which mostly used skim milk — and because the perishables couldn’t be easily transported, they gained a reputation as expensive luxury foods.

So when upstate New York entrepreneur William Lawrence began making his skim milk and (for richness) lard-based cream cheese in the 1870s, he needed a name that would entice customers and convey quality despite it being made in Chester, New York, and not Philadelphia. Together with cheese broker and marketing mastermind Alvah Reynolds, Lawrence’s cheese was branded under the Philadelphia name in 1880, which boosted sales and promoted its popularity with home cooks well into the early 1900s.

The Color of Your Bread Tag Has an Important Meaning

Ever wonder why the tags used to seal loaves of bread come in different colors? Far from arbitrary, the color-coded system indicates which day of the week the bread was baked. The color system is even alphabetical: Monday is blue, Tuesday is green, Thursday is red, Friday is white, and Saturday is yellow. (Traditionally, bread wasn’t delivered on Wednesday or Sunday.)

Because bread rarely remains on the shelf for more than a few days, this system is more for internal use among employees than it is for customers looking to get the freshest sourdough possible. But if you favor a local bakery and get to know their system, you could either snag the best deals or the fluffiest dinner rolls in town.

The Snickers Candy Bar Was Named After One of the Mars Family’s Favorite Horses

While names like Hershey’s and 3 Musketeers (which originally included three bars) are fairly straightforward, some candy bar monikers are more elusive. Case in point: What, exactly, is a Snickers? Actually it’s a “who” — and not a human “who” at that. The candy bar was named after one of the Mars family’s favorite horses. Franklin Mars founded Mars, Incorporated (originally known as Mar-O-Bar Co.) in 1911, introducing Snickers in 1930; when it came time to name his product, he immortalized his equine friend as only a candy magnate could.

As Mars has grown into America’s fourth-largest private company, it has retained a dual focus on both candy and pets. M&M’s, Twix, and Milky Way are all Mars products, as are Iams, Pedigree, and Royal Canin. If you’ve ever wondered how M&M’s got their name, the story is slightly less interesting — it’s simply the last initials of Forrest Mars (Frank’s son) and partner-in-candy Bruce Murrie. The company is known for secrecy, with the family itself having been described as a “reclusive dynasty,” which means it’s a minor miracle that the identity of Snickers the horse was ever revealed in the first place.

The First Product Scanned With a Barcode Was Juicy Fruit Gum

When Marsh Supermarket cashier Sharon Buchanan rang up a 10-pack of Juicy Fruit on June 26, 1974, and heard a telltale beep, her face must have registered relief. Buchanan’s co-workers at the grocery store in Troy, Ohio, had placed barcodes on hundreds of items the night before, as the National Cash Register Company installed the shop’s new computers and scanners. Buchanan’s “customer” for that first purchase was Clyde Dawson, the head of research and development at Marsh Supermarkets, Inc. For that fateful checkout, Dawson chose the gum, made by the Wrigley Company, because some had wondered if the machine would have trouble reading the item’s very small barcode. It didn’t. Today, one of Marsh’s earliest scanners is part of the Smithsonian Museum of American History.

The Microwave Was Invented by Accident, Thanks to a Melted Chocolate Bar

The development of radar helped the Allies win World War II — and oddly enough, the technological advances of the war would eventually change kitchens forever. In 1945, American inventor Percy Spencer was fooling around with a British cavity magnetron, a device built to make radar equipment more accurate and powerful. To his surprise, microwaves produced from the radar melted a chocolate bar (or by some accounts, a peanut cluster bar) in his pocket. Spencer quickly realized that magnetrons might be able to do something else: cook food.

With the help of a bag of popcorn and, some say, a raw egg, Spencer proved that magnetrons could heat and even cook food. First marketed as the Radarange, the microwave oven launched for home use in the 1960s. Today, they’re as ubiquitous as the kitchen sink — all thanks to the Allied push to win the war.

Libraries Predate Books

While books are a fixture of today’s libraries, humans long constructed great centers of learning without them. That includes one of the oldest known significant libraries in history: the Library of Ashurbanipal. This library, established in modern-day Mosul, Iraq, by the Assyrian King Ashurbanipal in the seventh century BCE, contained nothing we would recognize today as a book. Instead, it was a repository of 30,000 clay tablets and writing boards covered in cuneiform — the oldest writing system in the world. Much like your local public library, this royal collection covered a variety of subjects, including legislation, financial statements, divination, hymns, medicine, literature, and astronomy.

Umbrellas Were Once Used Only by Women

Umbrellas have been around for a long time — at least 3,000 years, according to T.S. Crawford’s A History of the Umbrella — but they were used by only select segments of the population for much of that history. Ancient Egyptians used them to shade their pharaohs, setting the tone for an association with royalty and nobility that would also surface in China, Assyria, India, and other older civilizations. Meanwhile, they were deemed effeminate by ancient Greeks and the Romans who assumed many of their cultural habits. It should be noted that these early umbrellas protected against the sun, not rain, and were generally used by women to shield their complexions. The association between women and umbrellas persisted through much of Europe for centuries, and stubbornly remained into the 18th century, even after the first waterproof umbrellas had been created (around the 17th century in France).

In England, at least, the man credited with ushering in a new age of gender-neutral weather protection was merchant and philanthropist Jonas Hanway. Having spotted the umbrella put to good use during his many travels, Hanway took to carrying one through rainy London in the 1750s, a sight met with open jeering by surprised onlookers. The greatest abuse apparently came from coach drivers, who counted on inclement weather to drive up demand for a dry, comfy ride. But Hanway took the derision in stride. Shortly after his death in 1786, an umbrella advertisement surfaced in the London Gazette, a harbinger of sunnier days to come for the accessory’s reputation as a rain repellant for all.

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While we’ve come a long way from being solely reliant on the sun’s rays to chart the day, the core principles of determining time remain largely the same. Nowadays, some people wear a trusty wristwatch, whereas others glance at their phone for a quick update. No matter your preferred method of tracking the hours, here are six timely facts about clocks and other timekeeping devices.

The Oldest Working Mechanical Clock Is Located at an English Cathedral

England’s Salisbury Cathedral dates back to the 13th century, and is home to one of four surviving original copies of the 1215 Magna Carta. The cathedral is also the site of the world’s oldest working mechanical clock, a machine dating back to 1386, if not earlier.

Composed of hand-wrought iron and intertwined with long ropes that extend halfway up the cathedral walls, the Salisbury Cathedral clock is the brainchild of three clockmakers: Johannes and Williemus Vriemand, as well as Johannes Jietuijt of Delft. The clock operates thanks to a system of falling weights, which are pre-wound once each day, and the device is designed solely to denote each passing hour. It once sat in a detached bell tower before falling into disuse around 1884. Thankfully, the mechanism was rediscovered in 1929 and later restored in 1956; prior to that restoration, the clock had successfully chimed for nearly 500 years on over 500 million separate occasions. It continues to operate today.

Pennies Are Used To Maintain the Accuracy of Big Ben’s Clock Tower

London’s Elizabeth Tower, at the north end of the Palace of Westminster, boasts one of the most recognizable clock faces in the world. Inside the tower’s belfry is where one can find “Big Ben” — though many use the name to refer to the tower as a whole, it actually refers to the mechanism’s grandest and most prominent bell. Name-related confusion aside, the clock is notable for another reason, too: Its accuracy is regulated using old pennies and, on occasion, other coins.

Due to external atmospheric conditions such as air pressure and wind, the exact time depicted on the face of Elizabeth Tower can fall ever so slightly out of sync with reality. In order to right these wrongs, old pennies — coins that existed prior to England’s switch to decimal coinage in 1971 — are added to the bell’s pendulum, which in turn alters the daily clock speed by 0.4 seconds per penny. The process is a long-standing one, having been used to regulate the time as far back as 1859. In 2012, three of the 10 coins relied upon for this purpose were, for a brief time, swapped out for a five-pound crown commemorating that year’s London Olympics.

19th-Century Maritime Signals Inspired Times Square’s New Year’s Ball

The New Year’s Ball drop in Times Square, New York, is a beloved annual tradition, though its origins had nothing to do with revelry. In fact, the ball drop was inspired by a 19th-century timekeeping mechanism targeted at maritime crews. “Time balls” — which dropped at certain times as a signal to passing ships and navigators to set their on-ship chronometers — first appeared in Portsmouth Harbor in 1829 and later at England’s Royal Observatory at Greenwich in 1833. In fact, the giant red time ball located in Greenwich continues to operate today.

The balls were the culmination of an idea suggested by a man known as Robert Wauchope, who promoted the concept of visual clues located ashore to help passing ships tell time. Wauchope originally suggested the use of flags, though orbs that moved up and down were finally settled upon instead. Though these time balls were initially made to help mariners keep track of time, they soon became an attraction among locals, as people would come to watch the ball fall, in a precursor to today’s New Year’s Eve crowds.

Medieval Engineer Ismael al-Jazari Invented an Elephant Clock

Throughout the 12th and early 13th centuries, few inventors pioneered more mechanisms in the world of robotics than Ismael al-Jazari, who lived and worked in what is now Turkey. Al-Jazari was so influential at the time that he’s believed to have even inspired the works of Leonardo da Vinci. Among al-Jazari’s most notable timekeeping inventions was an elephant clock, colorful illustrations of which appeared in his 1206 manuscript, The Book of Knowledge of Ingenious Mechanical Devices.

The clock was an intricate device constructed atop the back of a copper elephant, containing several moving parts as well as a scribe to denote the passing of time. The entire clock relied upon a water-powered timer, which was made up of a bowl that slowly descended into a hidden tank of water. As that bowl sank, the scribe noted the number of minutes. Furthermore, every half hour a ball would be triggered to fall and collide with a fan, which rotated the device’s dial to show how many minutes had passed since sunrise. That same ball ultimately dropped into a vase that in turn triggered a cymbal to begin the cycle anew. The whole mechanism not only incorporated this Indian-inspired timing technology, but also Greek hydraulics as well as design elements from Egyptian, Chinese, and Arabian cultures.

The World’s Most Accurate Clock Is Located in Boulder, Colorado

Located in the basement of a laboratory at the University of Colorado, Boulder, is a clock considered to be the world’s most accurate. Invented by scientist Jun Ye, the clock is so precise that it would take 15 billion years for it to lose a single second of time. That absurd number dwarfs the traditional 100 million years that it takes many modern atomic clocks to lose a second.

The first atomic clock was constructed in 1949 by the National Bureau of Standards, and helped scientists to accurately redefine the measurement of a second by the year 1967. Prior to that point, a second had been calculated as 0.000,011,574 of a mean solar day, which proved to be inaccurate due to the irregular rotation of the Earth. Ye’s new clock optimizes the techniques of those early atomic clocks, using strontium atoms that are arranged in a 3D lattice to tick at 1 million billion times per second. While that science-heavy explanation may not be entirely clear to the average person, Ye’s atomic clock can be summed up like this: It’s really, really accurate.

French Revolutionary Time Instituted a System of 10-Hour Days

While societies around the world may not agree on much, one thing that’s generally accepted is that each day is 24 hours long. Back in 1793, however, during the French Revolution, France took an oppositional stance and adopted a new timekeeping concept. This decimal time concept included 10-hour days, 100 minutes every hour, and 100 seconds per minute. In essence, its base 10 method of timekeeping was proposed as a simpler way to note how much time had passed on any given day.

This new timekeeping plan officially started on November 24, 1793, and was immediately met with resistance and confusion by the public. People were unwilling to change their old habits for telling time, despite French clockmakers producing new mechanisms that featured both traditional timekeeping methods and the new decimal-based technique. In the end, decimal clocks lost their official status in 1795, though the concept wasn’t quite dead yet. France tried yet again in 1897, this time proposing a variant that incorporated 24-hour-long days with 100 minutes per hour, but that proposal was scrapped in 1900.