Everybody is an inventor. It starts when we are in the crib, figuring out the best ways to grab our toes. But toes don't count if you don't get a patent.
Who invented patents?
The Greeks, per hearsay and Wikipedia:
Athaneaus said Phylarchus said culinary artists in Sybaris could get one-year patents on recipes. Maybe one of those Sybarites invented stuffing food into grape leaves.
Nope, that Greek specialty supposedly came straight from the gods on Mount Olympus. Hmmm.
If you're a Greek god, you probably don't worry about patents. Even so, a story about inventing and patenting something could be a gripping Greek drama, laced with intrigue, fired by competitive energy and flavored with jealousy. Maybe a patent-stealer gets his comeuppance by being eternally banished to a forlorn remote place or assigned some everlasting duty or both. That's my take on Greek mythology. Characters always get what's coming to them, whether they deserve it or not.
After ancient Greece, Italy shows up next in the scheme of all things patented. You might be thinking Italians, inventors of la dolce vita, wouldn't have had the organizational bent to be early players in establishing model patent processes. On the other hand, obscure pun intended, there's the Mafia. They don't call it organized crime for nothing. Italians are creative and organized to boot.
In 1421 in Florence, Renaissance epicenter, Filippo Brunelleschi, an artist and architect with talents foreshadowing soon-to-arrive-on-the-scene artist-inventor Leonardo, invented and patented a flat-bottomed boat designed to carry loads of marble on the Arno. Brunelleschi's riverboat somehow got nicknamed "Il Badalone," meaning "The Monster." By the time he launched the vessel, paddle wheels and all, his history-making patent had expired. What's worse, despite the tough-sounding name, the big boat sank. Oh well. At least Brunelleschi charted new waters when he convinced the powers that were to grant him that patent.
Fast forward to ice trays. Remember those old metal ones with levers to pop the cubes out? I'd like to struggle again with one of those frosty trays — and win. They were monsters. In fact, maybe they resembled "Il Badalone," minus the paddle wheels. Imagine the lever in the raised position as a hoist for the pieces of marble. It's a stretch, but when it comes to miniature boats, imagination is key. Add the right rigging, and a peanut shell becomes a galleon, not that I've ever built one. Maybe there's time.
Back to ice cube trays. The latest ones have notches in the cube compartment dividers at either end to improve tray flexibility and make the ice pop out smoothly. If you have an icemaker, your life won't change. Mine will. No more beating trays half to death to get the last stubborn cubes.
If the notch inventor didn't get a patent, he's probably somewhere beating himself half to death.
That's what I'll be doing too if anyone ever uses either big rubber bands or springs to store excess energy produced by wind turbines.
You heard it first right here.