Its been a long time since I last posted here. That’s because I was out living the dream. I spent over a month and a half out in Utah with the Denver Museum of Nature and Science. That could be a lengthy post in and of itself. But I can’t really share pictures or too many details about what we found. Suffice to say it was a very productive experience where I got to live my passion, learn a lot, and work with some great people.
I seem to have gotten into hot water with certain folks (they’ll probably call this post stupid as well). But I’ll deal with them later. Before i did i really wanted to talk about something that i have wanted to for a long time. It is about a problem that is quite pervasive in museums and one that needs to be rectified. Because it has repercussions for us all.
For most people, museums are just places to take the family on a lazy weekend or places you go to gawk at stuffed animals and ancient skeletons that have no practical applications to their lives or society. For me though, they were one of the only places i ever felt at home, where i belong. I have been going to museums to feed my passion for the natural world all my life. Whenever we went on a trip i was always looking for a museum to go to. And these days, i my enthusiasm has not waned. Since i hope to open my own museum someday, i am always looking at museum exhibits closely, looking for inspiration, what works, and even things not to do.
Welcome to the finale of “Better Know a Museum” Month. What a ride, huh? Yeah it’s two weeks late. But i had finals last week and typing this out has just been so tedious. I really need to invest in some voice recognition software. Anyway, everything good must eventually come to an (or continue to live on in a despoiled state. I’m looking at you Star Wars!). And for the final installment of this special series i have decided to revisit a previous review.
Fossil discovery is the stuff of legends. News reports, books, and documentaries portray paleontologists searching the forsaken terrain of far off lands, roughing it like cowboys. Cut off from the hustle and bustle of modern society, they have retreated to perhaps one of the last wild spaces on earth, free to scour the badlands for the bones of long forgotten creatures. Eyes to the ground, the keep a sharp vigil for any sign that a bone is peeking out of the ground. Any thing is welcome, but the remains of a beast new to science is the greatest prize to be had. It is the romantic vision most often conjured by the secondhand story teller as well as common people who hear the word paleontologist. This version was true back in the early days of paleontology, and it still occurs in some of the more remote parts of the world.
Really? It’s been over a month since my last post? I have been so damn busy with school, trips, housework, and now spring break (last week). So in a desperate bid to make this up to my few loyal readers, I am having a “Better Know a Museum” Month! Each week I’ll give you another installment of my long running series, delving into the new, the old, and the spectacular as we look the places that provide us with paleontological wonderment. And what better was to begin than an exclusive (at least for me) tour of the stuff unseen at the San Bernardino County Museum.