Web Log Entry #0026, Saturday, December 14, 2002: Day 26, continued
Anchorage Sunrise: 10:07am Sunset: 3:40pm High Temp: 26° Low Temp: 22°
Here's Part II:
You've probably been thinking "Hey, Evan never followed up on his Children's Found Art reference. I feel so let down!" Fear not, for I did go unto the Anchorage Museum of History and Art, because I just had to know. And I went in ready to offer a humorous critique of junk glued together by Alaskan Children displayed on refrigerators (apologies to Steven Wright), but I was not prepared for what I found.
It didn't suck. It was actually really cool! First of all, the art wasn't done by children, it just happened to be in the Children's Art section because it was to teach kids about Found Art. The actual pieces were done by professional Alaskan Artists, and while you'd think it would be just lumps of rocks, snow and moose dung, some of the works were really great. I particularly liked the pick-axe with the handle cut into sections and rebuilt into a flexible "tail." And the stool with little shoes on the legs. And the bottle of champagne from the Titanic (kept in a lucite box of water). I admit I don't know much about Art, but as a journalist and humor writer, I am qualified to criticize things I know nothing about. So when I say it didn't suck, you can take that to the bank (not an endorsement of Alaskan Found Art for investment purposes).
The rest of the museum was a blur of images, mostly because of the eyelash trapped on my contact lens. I do have some clear memories, like turning the corner into the Alaska wing, and there's this huge, stuffed Musk Ox, like some giant stuffed toy. Right next to it is a sign: "Please do not pet Musk Ox", because it's so furry and soft you just know the first thing everybody's going to want to do is pet it. It doesn't seem fair.
As I wander through the section, the lights in the dioramas come on as I approach. Being right clever, I realize that they're on motion sensors, and there is nobody else in this section, maybe on the whole floor. So if you're ever broke and need a place to live in the off-season in Anchorage, check out the second floor of the museum. Nobody else seems to use it.
I turn another corner, and there's a moose. I approach carefully, in case he isn't stuffed, and just wandered in to be out of the cold. He is stuffed, with his own sign: "Please do not touch." So I touched him, because I'm a rebel and I live by my own rules, and no one can tame me. That's just the way I am.
I would have made a bad pre-historic Native Alaskan. First, all their clothes are made from the skins or internal organs of animals, so I'd be constantly grossed out by that. Second, I'd always be saying "It's too damn COLD! The animals are smart enough to leave in the winter, why don't we? Let's move to San Diego!" I know I'm never going to Siberia, because the ancient people came from there, and to them, Alaska looked really good.
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