One of my very favorite places is the New Mexico Museum of Natural History and Science in Albuquerque's Old Town. I know every city has a museum like this, that it's a variation on a theme: kid-friendly, hands-on science with a generous helping of dinosaurs. I've been to a lot of those museums. Heck, I have been to museums all over this planet of ours, and I think our little tribute to the natural world is one of the best.
My parents made a special trip to Albuquerque when it opened twenty-some years ago, which was unheard of. A trip to Albuquerque in those pre-Costco days meant we were flying somewhere, otherwise there was no justification for the four hour car trip and expense of a night in a hotel. But when the museum opened, we were so there.
I remember how friggin' awesome the musuem was, especially to an eight-year-old. There was an automated T-Rex that roared, and a simulated volcano that you could walk through (and over glowing "lava" which always thrilled me). I remember how I could spend hours staring up at the leg bone of a brachiosaurus, and hanging around the stegosauraus affectionately known as Spike. The displays on New Mexico's sea coast and the origins of DNA were awe-inspiring to a little kid with an already nerdy bent, and unlike the Louvre, this new museum was hands on. There were buttons to push, and mammoth skulls to touch and a whole room dedicated for children to explore the natural room. Unfortunately, this room also had the collection of live snakes, which always seemed to be out for touching, and I am not a fan of the slitheries, so there was always an air of danger going into the resource room.
My mother -- a docent, now -- still refuses to go in there.
After that first trip, no visit to Albuquerque was complete without a run through the museum. Seriously. Doctors' appointments were followed by some quality time hanging out in the volcano, which just made the former Albuquerque contingent go, "Oh, MAN," because sometimes you just need to hang out in a lightless room dedicated to liquid hot magma.
In the last year, my parents have become volunteers for the museum. My mother is an on-again, off-again docent. "Here are the dinosaurs. There are the bathrooms." My dad, a former physical science teacher, is training to become a chiseler, one of those guys you see in the Fossil Works lab in the center of the downstairs, carving out fossils from bedrock with dental tools. How friggin' cool is that? His training has been on a mammoth skeleton, but after graduation there's talk of moving up to dinosaurs. My dad's a total rock star.
The museum is one of those happy places where I can go in feeling kind of down and come out feeling rather cheerful. It's a lovely space in a lovely city.
We went to the museum yesterday for the first time in ages, after the gawdforsaken autocross on Saturday. We took a messenger bag stuffed full of Uglydolls and cameras and spent an enjoyable couple of hours running around our favorite exhibits taking stupid pictures and talking about how we loved coming here as kids and our childhoods in general. It felt like we were visiting old friends. We shoved a couple of dollars into the Stan collection fund and were rewarded with a roar similar to the long-gone animatronic T-Rex. It was a good day.
My parents made a special trip to Albuquerque when it opened twenty-some years ago, which was unheard of. A trip to Albuquerque in those pre-Costco days meant we were flying somewhere, otherwise there was no justification for the four hour car trip and expense of a night in a hotel. But when the museum opened, we were so there.
I remember how friggin' awesome the musuem was, especially to an eight-year-old. There was an automated T-Rex that roared, and a simulated volcano that you could walk through (and over glowing "lava" which always thrilled me). I remember how I could spend hours staring up at the leg bone of a brachiosaurus, and hanging around the stegosauraus affectionately known as Spike. The displays on New Mexico's sea coast and the origins of DNA were awe-inspiring to a little kid with an already nerdy bent, and unlike the Louvre, this new museum was hands on. There were buttons to push, and mammoth skulls to touch and a whole room dedicated for children to explore the natural room. Unfortunately, this room also had the collection of live snakes, which always seemed to be out for touching, and I am not a fan of the slitheries, so there was always an air of danger going into the resource room.
My mother -- a docent, now -- still refuses to go in there.
After that first trip, no visit to Albuquerque was complete without a run through the museum. Seriously. Doctors' appointments were followed by some quality time hanging out in the volcano, which just made the former Albuquerque contingent go, "Oh, MAN," because sometimes you just need to hang out in a lightless room dedicated to liquid hot magma.
In the last year, my parents have become volunteers for the museum. My mother is an on-again, off-again docent. "Here are the dinosaurs. There are the bathrooms." My dad, a former physical science teacher, is training to become a chiseler, one of those guys you see in the Fossil Works lab in the center of the downstairs, carving out fossils from bedrock with dental tools. How friggin' cool is that? His training has been on a mammoth skeleton, but after graduation there's talk of moving up to dinosaurs. My dad's a total rock star.
The museum is one of those happy places where I can go in feeling kind of down and come out feeling rather cheerful. It's a lovely space in a lovely city.
We went to the museum yesterday for the first time in ages, after the gawdforsaken autocross on Saturday. We took a messenger bag stuffed full of Uglydolls and cameras and spent an enjoyable couple of hours running around our favorite exhibits taking stupid pictures and talking about how we loved coming here as kids and our childhoods in general. It felt like we were visiting old friends. We shoved a couple of dollars into the Stan collection fund and were rewarded with a roar similar to the long-gone animatronic T-Rex. It was a good day.
Labels: albuquerque, meta
1 Comments:
I have to say that I love going to the museum also. When I was little I was so scared of the lava room that I would stand on the very edges just in case the glass broke and I fell to my very hot, very dramatic death. He he, good times.
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