Placeholder–Art Lab with Barry Badgett
February 11th, 2006 by Keith NeufeldProject Idea: Dancing Water
February 8th, 2006 by Keith NeufeldThe Concept
At last, I have an idea for a Technology: Art and Sound by Design final project. I’ve been struggling to think of anything interesting to do. As a musician, I’m dissatisfied with the beeps and boops that we can make with little chips; as a technologist, I’m more interested in building robotics that aren’t very artistic. But this morning, something clicked: I’d like to make a dancing water display.
I’ve been enchanted with dancing water fountains ever since I visited Disneyworld about twelve years ago. They have an amazing display with “snakes” of water frolicking from pot to pot and even leaping across the sidewalk over the heads of the guests. I’ve also watched the choreographed fountains at Atlanta’s Centennial Park, and recently I ran across the overview of a tutorial project called the Geyserbot at Bruce Shapiro’s The Art of Motion Control.
What
I’m thinking of a small display most akin to the Geyserbot–probably even a bit smaller (’cause it looks like it’s standing in a wading pool). I’d like it to be relatively easy to move around in order to display, and self-contained in a case to hide all the guts from the viewer. If it were ever formally exhibited, I might include a placard with a photo and description of the internal mechanism.
Complexity could be added in stages. First, get a basic mechanism running, with say eight jets (= 8 bits of control). Even if it did nothing more than the Geyserbot demo video–sequence the water jet to move back and forth down the line of nozzles, or shoot off alternating nozzles–I think it’d still be pretty interesting. Advanced versions could have more jets (maybe switch to the 40-pin version of the LogoChip with more I/O ports) and more choreography. If the valves could be actuated rapidly enough, it might even be possible to shoot simple pictures into the air–a heart shaped out of rising water droplets, for example.
I think I’d start with eight jets in a row pointing straight up, but it wouldn’t be hard to move them into a circle, tilt them inward so the jets met in the center, etc. With more jets, you could have sixteen in a circle with half pointing up and half pointing in. Lots of possibilities!
I haven’t decided whether I’d like it to be synchronized to music a la the Wizards of Winter Christmas display (which is a real display using a very high-end light sequencer, BTW), or silent except for the sounds of water splashing. Sequencing to music is obviously more difficult–and I don’t know whether it would really add anything. I rather like quiet sounds of water.
How
Since a pump takes longer to start up and shut off than a valve takes to open and close (I assume), I envision having one pump overall, and an electrically-operated valve for each jet. I don’t want the water to spray particularly high into the air–I’m more interested in having fat streams of water than thin sprays–so I think I’d need relatively low water pressure. It may be difficult finding a pump as slow/small as what I need (a small fraction of a cfm, by my estimations), so I might have to inflate some kind of bladder and use a pressure switch to turn the pump on and off on demand. And I’d be very interested if anyone has suggestions on where to get a pump and affordable valves–add a comment to this post if you have ideas!
Control is easy–start with eight jets and wire them to a single output register on the LogoChip. Build MOSFET drivers with back-EMF diodes for the valves, and I’m good to go. Eventually it’d be nice to have a sequencer program like Tom McGuire showed us on his drum machines, but I’d probably start out programming the jets by hand.
I’d like to build it into a case, and I haven’t thought much about what would be most appealing. I know I’d like to have the nozzles barely protruding from a pool of water, both from an aesthetic standpoint (hide the technology and focus on the art) and from a practical one (I think the pool will help dissipate splashing as all the water falls back down).
I’m not sure about the enclosure, though–what kind of material would be appropriate. I don’t want anything high-tech or flashy like aluminum to distract attention from the water show. The weathered metals we saw yesterday in the art workshop were gorgeous, but I don’t know whether they’re right for this project (and whether I could make them happen in time). I’m most comfortable working with wood, and a cherry enclosure (my old favorite) might not be too bad.
Comments welcome!
Got Beep
February 6th, 2006 by Keith NeufeldRead the Manual, Stupid
Last week when I was trying to get the piezo buzzer to work with the LogoChip, I was in such a hurry to get to the sound that I skipped this part of the instructions:
Upon powering up, all of the user accessible pins on the LogoChip are configured as “inputs”. . . . Therefore, for the exercises in this document, we would like to always have all of the portb pins configured as outputs. . . . This can be done by creating the following special powerup procedure.
to powerup
write portb-ddr 0 ; turns all of portb into outputs
end
Last night when I soldered pins onto the piezo buzzer from the pager, plugged it into the LogoChip, and still couldn’t get sound out of it, I knew something was up. Finally it dawned on me that I didn’t know which way the ports were configured at boot, and looked at the getting started guide closely enough to find the section I quoted above. With the ports configured as outputs, it beeps just fine. Duh.
Beep Volume
I’m surprised at how quiet the beep is running on 5V, compared to how obnoxiously noisy the beep is in a pager on 1.5V. I changed back to the beeper from the microwave and it’s a little louder, but not much. Is the 1.5V in the pager really getting stepped up somehow? Tiny transformer, or voltage multiplier? Maybe I just need a driver transistor; I guess some experimentation is in order.
Beep Code
Making a beep was cute and simple, but booooring, so I made a little warbly sound.
to powerup write portb-ddr 0 ; set port B to output at power-up end to startup warble 3 ; "warble" three times when the Go button is pressed end to click-on setbit 0 portb end to click-off clearbit 0 portb end to delay :n repeat :n [no-op] ; waste time by doing nothing, several times end to note :period :duration ; play a note of a given pitch for a given duration repeat :duration [ ; repeat as long as requested click-on ; make a sound delay :period ; wait a little bit click-off ; make another sound delay :period ; wait another little bit ] end to warble :times ; make a warbly noise several times repeat :times [ note 2 200 ; make a low-pitched sound note 1 200 ; make a higher-pitched sound ] end
Of course, downloading a routine named powerup
doesn’t automatically invoke that routine (unless you reboot the chip), so I invoked it manually from the console. Having done that, the routine makes a nice little warbly noise any time you type warble #
at the console, or press the “Go” button on the circuit board.
Another thought: Since note
‘s duration code loops around calls to the click-on
, click-off
routine, which calls delay
to set pitch, the duration is actually impacted proportionally to the pitch of the note. It’d be interesting to rewrite the duration code to take input in ms (or seconds) and check timer
to see when we’ve played the tone for long enough.
Pitches and Timing
If the code makes sense to you, then you’ll notice that I’m calling the delay routine with the second-shortest and shortest possible delays–twice and once through the loop. With delays of 2 and 1, the second pitch should be an octave higher than the first (twice the frequency)–but in practice, the one sound is only about a minor third higher than the other. That means that the overhead of calling the delay
procedure is much higher than the delay of running once through a timing loop around a no-op
.
Here’s the math: a minor third corresponds to a frequency difference of the fourth root of 2 (in equal-tempered tuning), whereas an octave is a factor of two. So if there were no overhead for calling the procedure, then the respective frequencies and periods would be simple doubles of each other:
f2 = 2f1
p1 = 2p2
But in practice
f2 = 4√2 f1
p1 = 4√2 p2
Let’s define tcall as the duration of the function call overhead (which should be constant) and tnoop as the duration of one trip through the loop in the delay
procedure, including both loop overhead and the no-op
operation (which we’re told is 13ms). (This ignores the fact that loop overhead will be slightly different when repeating and when exiting, but I suspect that the difference is small enough to be irrelevant. If anyone wants to check, I can measure frequencies for more delay values and give you equations in three variables . . .)
p1 = tcall + 2tnoop
p2 = tcall + 1tnoop
Then substituting back into the period relationship
p1 = 4√2 p2
tcall + 2tnoop = 4√2 (tcall + tnoop) = 4√2 tcall + 4√2 tnoop
2tnoop – 4√2 tnoop = 4√2 tcall – tcall
(2 – 4√2) tnoop = (4√2 – 1) tcall
tcall / tnoop = (2 – 4√2) / (4√2 – 1) ≅ 4.3
So if I did all that right (and I confess I ‘m pretty rusty), the overhead of calling delay
is a little more than four times the delay of one trip through the no-op
loop. Hmph.
Regardless of the relative values, the actual frequencies aren’t particularly high–higher than 440Hz, but well within the limits of my hearing. (I should test them tonight with my frequency counter.) That’s a bit disappointing for a 5Mhz-clocked chip running flat-out in a busy wait.
I thought about clocking the chip up to 40MHz per the instructions in the getting started guide (8x the clock speed = 3 octaves higher = outside the limits of my hearing), but I didn’t order the crystal and I didn’t have two 10Mhz crystals in my parts bin. Shucks.
I just talked to John, and he said that he and Tom McGuire were able to produce higher sounds using the chip’s built-in PWM. Not bad for a hack, but I wanted to use both channels of PWM for motor control. Think I need me a crystal.
Atmel/AVR Butterfly?
February 3rd, 2006 by Keith NeufeldWhilst searching for the application note on using the native UART from the LogoChip (which doesn’t seem to exist), I ran across this discussion board about microcontroller programming from OS X.
What caught my eye was the mention of the Atmel/AVR Butterfly. John Harrison has been touting the Atmel micros to me, but mainly mentioning the GNU toolchain. The Butterfly is an evaluation board with an Atmel micro on it, a 100-segment LCD, mini-joystick, light and temperature sensors, speaker, RS-232 level converter, and headers to access all the ports.
But wait–there’s more! No separate device programmer necessary–it can download code through its RS-232 port! Now how much would you pay?
But wait–there’s more! All that comes on a board the size of . . . a table? Nope, smaller! A breadbox? Nope, smaller yet! A nametag! That’s right, folks; all that functionality on a board small enough to clip onto your shirt!
Now how much would you pay?!! $80? $130? Nope, less than that.
$20.
Twenty. Freakin’. Dollars.
Available from Digi-Key.
Starting up the LogoChip
February 2nd, 2006 by Keith NeufeldIntroduction to the LogoChip
A lot of the work in the Technology: Art and Sound by Design class will revolve around the LogoChip, a PIC18F2320 microcontroller (~$8 in 28-pin DIP) with scads of I/O pins and a Logo byte-code interpreter. (The Logo code is compiled on a host computer and downloaded to the chip.) The getting started guide gives examples to flash LEDs, beep piezo speakers, and move Lego motors.
The chip looks very promising for my own hobby use as well. I’ve been intending to dive into microcontrollers for a long time, and always assumed it’d be PICs. I have a BASIC Stamp (and a separate PIC) on my SumoBot, so that’d be one entry into microcontroller programming; but the LogoChip appears to be even easier to get into.
I’d been planning to follow up to my tilt sensor project with a PROM-based controller, but a little logic tells me that I’d need to quantize the sensor’s PWM output into at least 32 slices to get acceptable motor behavior, and that’s a lot of work to do in discrete logic. I’m afraid I’d overload my small motor just with the weight of the TTL DIPs required to do that. I had really wanted to build a motor controller without a microcontroller, just to show myself that it could be done, but I think it’s time to move on.
Building Circuits
The last two nights, I’ve breadboarded the LogoChip circuit, got it communicating with a host computer, and successfully built the cloning circuit to program the LogoChip code into the blank PICs I bought. The road to success was paved with annoying obstacles, though.
The getting started guide gives a schematic and step-by-step instructions to lay out the supporting circuitry on a breadboard. Of course, I’m stingy with space (I want as much room left over for other components to experiment with), so I managed to collapse the circuitry into the smallest possible amount of space. I saved .4″ over their design! Woo-hoo!
But I built and tested it using my bench power supply, forgetting that I was planning to power it with a 9V battery and 7805 voltage regulator. After I had it all working, I didn’t have room to add the 7805, so I had to stick it down at the other end, move the power switch, etc. ERROR.
Also, the guide’s schematic for the serial interface disagrees with its visual layout instructions, and the schematic is incorrect. The indicator LED and its current-limiting resistor need to attach directly to DB-9 pin 3 (the host’s TD / chip’s RD), not to the chip’s C5 (pin 15) as shown in the schematic. When attached to C5, it appears to pull down the signal too hard, and I couldn’t get serial communications to work.
[INSERT CORRECTED SERIAL INTERFACE SCHEMATIC HERE]
And, OBTW, the LogoChip goes into the circuit UPSIDE DOWN. That’s right, engineers–don’t try to insert it with pin 1 in the usual position, ’cause that’s not the orientation they chose to use. (???!!!)
I only did that once.
Mac Interface Troubles
The guide points to the files needed to install the LogoChip Desktop Software, but doesn’t give much information about what to do with them. I’ve written more detailed instructions on the class wiki. Strangely, the Java serial communications driver seems to require Classis (OS 9) support in order to install correctly–that’s the only difference I can find between my work desktop computer (where it installed and ran fine) and my notebook computer (where it didn’t). I still plan to get this working on my notebook somehow, so watch the wiki for updates.
Cloning LogoChips
The LogoChip has a cloning process to copy the Logo firmware onto another PIC. Because you can use this to get the firmware onto a chip without a PIC programmer (which I don’t have and haven’t built yet), I ordered blank chips from Digi-Key rather than preprogrammed LogoChips from Wellesley, and John loaned me one of his chips to clone.
The clone routine is a program that has to be downloaded to the LogoChip, not a permanent part of the firmware, so I couldn’t clone until I had the serial communications working. John loaned me the chip Tuesday and I promised to have it back today (Thursday), so that put some pressure on me to get the serial issues debugged. I ended up using my wife’s Windows machine last night for the programming.
Since I’m powering my circuit from a 9V battery instead of the 4xAA 6V pack recommended by the guide, I was curious whether I’d have to add another battery for clone circuit’s programming voltage, or whether I could get away with 9V. Googling for PIC18F2320 programming voltage led me to Microchip’s programming specification, which has an AC/DC Characteristics chart waaaay at the bottom which gives a range of 9.00-13.25V for high-voltage programming. Shiny!
I grabbed the unregulated 9V straight from the battery, threw another PIC on the board, hooked it up, and downloaded the cloner code into John’s chip. (Uh, John, did you realize I’d be overwriting whatever program you already had in there? Sorry about that . . .) Pressed the Go button, and– . . . uh, the button popped right out of the breadboard. I’m gonna have to solder longer leads onto that puppy. Jammed it back in long enough to hit it, and voila! Run light went green (“doing something”) and programming light came on.
[INSERT PHOTO OF CHIP CLONING WITH LIGHTS]
After a while (don’t know if it was four minutes like the guide said) the programming light went off and the run light went red (idle), and it was done. I pulled John’s chip out of the breadboard and put it in an anti-static bag to bring back, put my new LogoChip into the master slot, and cloned it onto another blank chip to make sure it worked. Same deal–lights came on, blah blah–and now I have two LogoChips. W00T!
I tried hooking a piezo speaker to one of the pins to make a bleebledy-bloop program like the guide’s tutorial shows, but couldn’t get any sound. When I put 5V directly across it, it does click a little, so it may just need more current than the chip is supplying. I may try setting it up with a drive transistor to see if that helps; but I salvaged it out of a microwave, so I don’t actually even know for sure that it’s a speaker. Maybe it’s a secret Klingon nucrification death device.
I busted loose a piezo beeper from my stash of dead pagers, but it had SMT solder leads that I couldn’t just jam into the breadboard, so I let it go and called it a night.
And in Conclusion . . .
LogoChips are cool.
Welcome to Technology: Art and Sound by Design
February 2nd, 2006 by Keith NeufeldThis spring, I’m sitting in on a class called Technology: Art and Sound by Design, taught by John Harrison. The class interfaces engineering students with fine arts students, and microcontrollers with artistic expression. I’ve seen some of John’s cool toys, and I’m really looking forward to the things we’ll be building!
I’ve seen John for several years in his role as concertmaster of the Wichita Symphony Orchestra, so I confess to being a bit star-struck at actually talking to him and attending his class. It’s taking quite a twist of my brain to reconcile his stage presence (I’ve watched him play the solo violin in Vivaldi’s Four Seasons, for goodness sake) with his fun-loving, geeky side. Turns out he’s my age and has almost the same technology background I do–we both grew up with lots of the same microcomputers, programming assembler, writing games, etc. He diverged to music as a primary career, and I to computers.
I’m very grateful for his welcoming me into the class. He encourages my participation in discussions, in doing the projects, and in contributing to the class wiki. This should be a fun semester!
PWM Motor Control with a ROM
January 17th, 2006 by Keith NeufeldHere’s my next plan for motor control: Digitize the ADXL’s PWM signal into sixteen time sections (four left and four right) and use the resulting code and a PROM to generate a new PWM controlling the motor.
More details to be added later.
Tilt Sensor and Motor Drivers, Take I and II
January 15th, 2006 by Keith NeufeldAfter getting the PLL locked onto the signal from my ADXL202 tilt sensor and deriving separate left and right signals from it, I hooked it to the SN754410 H-bridge driver and wired up a motor salvaged from a toy car.
My goal is to control the motor’s direction using the H-bridge and its speed using pulse-width modulation (PWM)–the same signalling technique the sensor uses to indicate the magnitude of its tilt. I’d like the speed control to be proportional to the degree of tilt, so that a small tilt results in a slow correction from the motor, and a large tilt results in a faster correction.
With PWM speed control, the power to the motor is turning on and off at a fixed frequency, high enough to be irrelevant to the motor’s motion, but low enough not to cause problems with the induction of the motor’s windings. (Mine seems to be running at about 140Hz.) To make the motor go faster, leave the power on for a longer portion of each cycle before turning it off; to make it go slower, leave the power on for a shorter portion of each cycle.
In my first attempt, I wired the motor for locked antiphase driving. This control method constantly supplies power to the motor, but rapidly reverses its direction. To make the motor go faster forward, supply forward power for more of the time and reverse power for less of the time. This obviously consumes a tremendous amount of power, but also provides strong control over the motor’s behavior. It could be useful in getting a robot to stand still on a hillside, or hold its ground in a competitive setting without specifically trying to advance.
In my case, it just makes the motor vibrate. I suspect I’m not really supplying enough power to make it work, and the motor never does more than jerk a bit as I tilt the sensor toward its extremes. It was a nice idea–had it worked, it would have meant I could wire the sensor output directly into the motor driver’s input with no additional circuitry–but it just wasn’t meant to be.
For my second attempt, I used the left and right signals that I derive from the sensor and the phase-locked, 50% duty cycle signal, and wired them to the H-bridge inputs. Theoretically, this should have worked better than the locked antiphase control–with only one input active at a time, I should get more oomph out of the motor, and it might actually turn a bit instead of just jittering. Sadly, this still wasn’t the case. Apparently with this motor and only a 9V supply, 0-25% duty cycle isn’t enough to get it going, and certainly not enough go make it ramp up speed slowly with a slowly-increasing signal.
Those two methods were essentially freebies–all of the signals were available using parts I’d already wired onto the board. For my third attempt, I added a 74LS279 S-R latch, a logic device that remembers whether it has most recently been set (S) or reset (R) and holds its output accordingly.
I didn’t get very far in my experimentation before abandoning that line of pursuit as well. My thought was that I could use a master S-R latch to remember whether the motor was supposed to be turning forward or backward, and slave S-R latches to activate from the start of the duty cycle to the end of the “rightness,” or from the start of the “leftness” to the end of the duty cycle. This would change the effective duty cycle of the motor control from 0-25% to 0|50-75%.
The first complication was that my signal (sensor) and reference (PLL) don’t seem to be exactly in phase, or that the phase delay of negating one or the other is noticeable. When I view the derived left and right signals closely on my scope, I see a tiny spike at the start of each master duty cycle. Those spikes set and reset the forward-backward latch semi-randomly, preventing me from using this method without getting my phase timing more tightly calibrated than I want to have to rely on.
So just to test whether any part of the method was viable, I set up the left-tilted slave S-R latch to set (activate) as soon as the left signal is detected (remember, the earlier it is, the further left it’s tilted), and reset (deactivate) at the end of the master duty cycle. This gave a duty cycle of 50-75% for my S-R output, which I then fed into the H driver.
It was closer to what I wanted, at least; but not there yet. At 50% duty cycle, the motor is already running pretty fast for a small correction; and at 75% duty cycle, it’s perceptibly faster, but not as much so as I’d like. The real flaw is that even if this method worked, when it was nearly level, it’d oscillate between 50% forward and 50% backward. That’s a lot of action for a rig that’s already almost balanced.
I know, I know; the easy way to deal with this is to read the sensor with a PIC and set the motor behavior however I want in software. I’ll get there eventually. For now, though, I’m really hoping I can get this to work in discrete circuitry. Partly I’m interested in doing it for the experience (like building my own H-bridge board); partly I like thinking of this circuit as a low-level reflex, and doing it in software would make it feel more like a conscious action.
I’ll keep puzzling over more ways to do it in hardware–but I’m afraid it’s going to come down to inventing a linear pulse stretcher, which wasn’t on my calendar for January.
H-Bridge Motor Drivers
January 15th, 2006 by Keith NeufeldIf you want to reverse the direction of a DC motor, how would you do it? One of two ways:
- Change the positive voltage to a negative voltage
- Swap the two power leads
The first method is the simplest, but requires a dual-ended power supply–two sets of batteries, or a more complex circuit to split the voltage or generate the negative voltage from the existing positive. Either way adds overhead to the power supply.
The second method turns out to be the easiest to implement in practice, although it’s a bit tricky in an all-electronic solution. If you’re using relays to control the motor, you just use a DPDT relay with an off position, wired like so:
[insert relay schematic here]
To make the motor go forward, activate the FWD coil; to make it reverse, activate the REV coil.
The trick comes when implementing this in electronics. Most electronic switches (transistors) only pass electricity in one direction, so you can’t use a single switch to change the direction of current flow. The solution is an H-bridge, a set of four power transistors arranged like the upper and lower legs of an H, with the motor wired across the middle.
[insert H-bridge schematic here]
To make the motor turn forward, activate transistors 1 and 4. To make it reverse, activate 2 and 3. To burn out your transistors and power supply, activate 1 and 2 or 3 and 4.
On my CD-bot, I built an H-bridge from scratch out of (salvaged) small-signal, bipolar transistors. I wanted to do it from the ground up once, to know that I could. I also wanted to honor the goal that everything in the bot was made from salvaged materials, and I’ve never salvaged an H-bridge (as far as I know).
[insert picture of CD-bot motor driver board and 754410]
Since then, I’ve discovered the SN754410 quad half-H driver, which I purchased from Acroname. It’s a 16-pin DIP that provides four half-H-bridges, i.e. two complete bridges. It’s a piece of cake to use; and because one input controls an entire side of the H (transistors 1 and 2 or 3 and 4 in the diagram above), you can’t short it out with a simple mistake in the control logic. It’s a wonderful chip, I’m delighted to have found it, and I wonder why it’s not mentioned more often.
How to Make a 4046 PLL Work
January 13th, 2006 by Keith NeufeldSuccess! I have the PLL locking onto the ADXL202 now, and my LEDs indicating tilt, all thanks to Lab 4: CMOS 4046 Phase-Locked Loop from a 1997 class at UC Boulder that I found via Google. Thank you, thank you, thank you for putting your courseware online (and leaving it there, apparently indefinitely)!
The lab explained two salient points that I hadn’t seen previously:
1MΩ ≥ [ R1, R2 ] ≥ 10kΩ
100nF ≥ C1 ≥ 100pF
and
How to test each subsection of the chip independently to building a working circuit from the ground up
So here are the values I ended up using. C1 = .1μF and R2 = 100KΩ gave fmin quite a bit slower than my sensor’s 80Hz output, but that was the closest I could do with what I had in my parts bin. Likewise, R1 = 68KΩ gave fmax quite a bit faster than 80Hz, but again, it’s what I was able to do with what I had on hand. I was able to test each of these frequencies and confirm correct operation individually by connecting VCO IN to ground (fmin) and to VDD (fmax) with no SIGNAL IN, and counting hash marks on my scope.
For the low-pass filter (R3 and C2), the cutoff frequency should be much smaller than twice the frequency of the incoming signal (sounds vaguely Nyquistish, eh?), in order for VCO IN to get the average DC component of the phase comparator output. I scratched and calculated a bit, but wasn’t really enjoying it, so picked values I knew would set the cutoff far lower than 160Hz–R3 = 1MΩ and C2 = .01μF. The price of my sin of laziness is that the circuit takes a few seconds to lock onto the input signal at powerup, but I can live with that for now. And because my input signal doesn’t have a strict 50% duty cycle, I’m using the Type II (edge-triggered) phase detector.
I also connected INHIBIT to ground. I don’t know whether it was strictly necessary, but another posting recommended doing so with unused CMOS inputs. It only cost me one more jumper to ground it, and as much trouble as I’d had already, I wasn’t going to let one more little thing stand in my way. Of course, I wired the tilt sensor’s output to the 4046′s input.
And everything worked at last! As noted above, the PLL takes a couple of seconds to lock to the input signal, but once it does, it’s rock-solid every time. It’s encouraging to see that once the capture range is set properly, the 4046 really works predictably. The scope shows the signal wiggling on power-up, but then it settles down.
I also got to use the external trigger input on my scope. I was wishing for a dual-trace scope so I could trigger off the sensor signal and compare it with the PLL signal on the same screen. Can’t do that on my single-trace, but I’m doing the next best thing–using the sensor signal as an external trigger to lock the PLL signal into position. True, I won’t be able to detect very small phase differences this way; but within the resolution of my scope, it sure looks as though they’re in phase.
I wired up a 7406 and 7400 to give me the !SENSOR & PLL and !PLL & SENSOR combinations I described earlier, hooked them up to a couple of LEDs, and voila! Visible indication of the operation of my tilt sensor. A little more wiring, and I had four LEDs indicating bidirectional tilt. (Thank goodness the ADXL202 appears to use the same frequency generator for both axes’ PWM outputs, so I didn’t have to wire up another PLL for the Y axis.)
It works great! It works so well, in fact, that it demonstrates that I have the sensor positioned not quite level. And while I was fiddling with it trying to level it, I caused some intermittent connections on its contacts to its carrier. Oh well. It mostly works, and I know how to make it work, and I’m pretty happy about that.
POSTING IN PROGRESS