A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum, shall we say?
What can I say, it happened to me. First, let me start my story by assuring you that I am not a complete oaf. In fact, for years, I had suffered from DDD. Which, for those of you who aren’t familiar, is Directional Disability Disease. At least, that’s what I call it. But, about 15 years ago, it began to disappear. These days, I am average when it comes to figuring out the direction of things.
Anyway, I decided I was going to offer my readers a “review” of some of these “Online Museums” you can now visit. I’ve seen them featured everywhere. In emails, on Facebook, on National News Stations, and more. So bright and early, I woke, donned my best Virtual-Museum-Going-Outfit, which looked a lot like the jammy pants I had slept in, and off I went, “out into this brave new world.”
The “List” I chose, included some biggies, among The Louvre, The Guggenheim, The National Gallery of Art, The Metropolitan Museum of Art, and more. But I wanted to select one that I had never physically visited. So I settled on the Smithsonian National Museum of Natural History, there in Washington, D.C. Not only have I not been there, I felt it would be an “easy” pick since so many children visit each year.
When I “entered” the museum, I found myself at the information desk with a large elephant staring down at me. Stuffed. Large Trunks. Gray. It looked about right. But there was no one at the desk, or for that matter, in the museum. I felt a bit like I was trespassing, after hours, which sort of made it all the more fun.
As I ventured away from the desk, I had to “choose” where I wanted to go, much like when you visit any museum. Quickly, I made up my mind that I wanted to see the entire thing. I’d be methodical in my tour of the galleries. One by one, I’d hit them all.
Well, that method didn’t go so well. Very quickly, I landed in the gift shop, turning around in a circle three times, seeing the display of tooth necklaces at least three times. By the third pass, I was trying to decide if I had anything to wear that would go with such a necklace, as finding my way out might require a purchase. Nonetheless, I tried a different directional arrow on the screen and was on my way again, somehow jumping through some sort of wall and into the cafeteria.
At this point, I was neither hungry, thirsty, or in need of a plush antelope. I just wanted to see some Natural History, more for you, than me, at this point. I trudged on. I made it back to the lobby and got a different view of the elephant, still gray, still wrinkly, and overall impressive in stature. I figured I would try something different at this point, like tip-toeing. Singing Tiny Tim. Quietly. If only I could find some natural tulips in this natural place.
Well, I must have conjured up some Ghosts of Entertainment Past, as the next click led me into the auditorium. Again, by myself. No one on stage, no one in the audience. At least I was practicing good social distancing at that point. But truthfully, I just wanted to see ONE exhibit, read one placard on the wall, find one interesting fact that I could write about here.
It went from bad to worse. I had wandered into a corner, looking at some discarded cords and a speaker. I was pretty sure I was the only person in the history of the National History Museum, to be viewing someone’s old drawing tablet. I walked past the clunky black speaker, ran into the same wall twice, and found a back stairwell. I was starting to feel like someone was going to pop out from the shadows and ask me if I wanted to buy a watch.
So. I did what all able-bodied virtual tour-goers do. I closed my browser, and started over again, back at the front desk, the same elephant, this time, the butt. A different approach, I went the other way, found an actual exhibit, with a lion, and some elk, and a giraffe. However, very soon, I couldn’t believe it. I was up on the ceiling, somehow, eye-to-eye with the giraffe.
I was able to get back down on the floor, where I viewed one wall display, thankfully. Finally, I can tell you something.
And it has to do with extinction. About those historical animals under 110 pounds, and how some disappeared from Eurasia, some 45,000 to 4,000 years ago. Eighteen percent of them went extinct. Somehow, I was certain that was me, in a past life.
Needless to say, I am not deterred, just tired. Mostly from hauling around my virtual shopping bag from the Gift Shop. Tomorrow, I will go to another museum, and see great things. I might find the staff kitchen or the delivery dock at The Vatican Museum. But I’m not sure who I should pray to before I go. St. Christopher, the Patron Saint of Travel, or Saint Anthony, the Patron Saint of Lost Objects. From the looks of me, I better pray to both.
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“Not all those who wander are lost.”
― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring
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“Some beautiful paths can’t be discovered without getting lost.”
― Erol Ozan
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“The quiet sense of something lost”
― Tennyson
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