[Nhcoll-l] Its that time of year again...

[Dawn Roberts]

Bravo! Another excellent one for the books.

On Fri, Dec 13, 2019 at 12:44 PM James and Judy Bryant <jbandjb at live.com>
wrote:

> Brilliant! Rest assured you have at least 3 supporters!
>
> James Bryant
> SOJOURN Science - Nature - Education
> Santa Fe, NM
> https://www.linkedin.com/in/james-bryant-0598a940/
>
>
> On Dec 13, 2019, at 6:28 AM, John E Simmons <simmons.johne at gmail.com>
> wrote:
>
> *In Which St. Entropy Becomes Confounded by Literary Conjunctions*
>
>
> ‘Twas the night before Christmas, with nothing crepusculous
> Except for a few daring, tiny *Mus musculus*.
> Throughout the museum, from basement to attic,
> All was quiet and peaceful, with no hint of static.
> The stockings were stuffed in the chimney with care
> In hopes of impeding incoming cold air.
> The curators were nestled all snug, just like chickens,
> As I settled down with my copy of Dickens.
> Not *A Tale of Two Cities* or *Great Expectorations*—
> *A Christmas Carol* suited my night’s aspirations.
> Not a creature was stirring in holly-tree or thicket
> (Though, out toward the hearth, I did hear a cricket).
> When, out on the drive, there arose such commotion
> I sprang to my feet (pure poetry in motion)
> And away to the window I flew like The Flash,
> Tore open the shutters, and threw up the sash.
> The moon on the breast of the newly plowed snow
> Reminded me that my car was buried below.
> When, what to my watering eyes should appear,
> But a Victorian sleigh and eight steampunk reindeer.
> More rapid than vultures the coursers they flew
> As if food, glorious food, had just come into view.
> But… the little old driver… he looked just like Scrooge!
> What was the meaning of this subterfuge?
> And then in a twinkling (he moved fast for a geezer)
> Standing in front of me was old Ebenezer.
> “What’s the meaning of this?” I sputtered, afright.
> Eb said “You’re due for some visits tonight.
> Your museum is in for a strange trip—stand fast!”
> And then I saw the spectre of Museums Past.
> Such lovely old places! And oh, so attractive!
> No bells, no whistles, and no interactives!
> The light was all golden. The cases were glass.
> So much to see, and so much room to pass.
> There were labels aplenty, all tidy and neat.
> You had to admit:  it all looked very sweet.
> But, before I could dwell on this scene, oh, so pleasant,
> It was replaced by the ghost of Museums Present.
> The exhibits were spacious, but the objects were few
> (and down in the café, there was coffee to brew).
> The labels I saw I could not comprehend
> But at least they were worded so not to offend.
> There were directors, vice directors, vice-vice directors galore,
> But the collection care staffing was, well, very poor.
> “Where are the specimens?” I asked with concern
> As to old Ebenezer I slowly did turn.
> He just shook his head, then picked up a hatchet
> “They all have to go,” he said, “Sorry ‘bout that, Cratchit.”
> The image then changed, and I was feeling quite numb.
> It was the much-dreaded specter of Museums Yet to Come.
> The hallways were vast, the floors were all sparkling,
> And visitors paid for both admission and parking.
> It was all automated: there was no need for staff.
> Just a couple of robots (they were named Riff and Raff).
> The things on exhibit all seemed newly minted
> As well they should—they were all 3D printed.
> A lone curator appeared, with a face oh, so grim:
> The museum had just pink-slipped poor old Tiny Tim!
> Something had to be done in this bleak house, indeed,
> Hard times or not, the museum was in need.
> Was this really the future, with exhibitions so dull,
> Trapped in a boring, intellectual lull?
> We mustn’t forget what museums are at heart--
> Sharing objects with people is our greatest of arts.
> This old curiosity shop could not come to an end!
> So… I called on the Santaphone to our mutual friend.
> St Entropy answered my plea like an ace
> And, being all magic, showed up at our place
> Within seconds of hearing the chimes of the call,
> Bringing with him, not some of our memories, but all!
> He brought back dioramas, and returned the text,
> And all the collections and curators next.
> The ledgers, the labels, the tags, and the cases
> Were all instantly back in their long-standing places.
> The heart of the museum was restored in the clinch.
> (I might have read Dickens, but the Saint read *The Grinch*).
> And being a Saint, he gave Scrooge a ride,
> To wherever it is that old Scrooges abide.
> They sprang to the sleigh and both gave a whistle
> As together they flew like the down of a thistle.
> I heard them exclaim (as is worth recollection)
> “The key to the future is to use the collection!”
> And they and their dear deer called out as they flew,
> “Merry Christmas to all—and to all museums, too!”
>
>
> *John Simmons and Sally Shelton wish all two of our supporters the
> happiest of holiday seasons on this occasion, the thirtieth of these
> poems. *
> *See what you’ve encouraged?*
>
>
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> _______________________________________________
> NHCOLL-L is brought to you by the Society for the Preservation of
> Natural History Collections (SPNHC), an international society whose
> mission is to improve the preservation, conservation and management of
> natural history collections to ensure their continuing value to
> society. See http://www.spnhc.org for membership information.
> Advertising on NH-COLL-L is inappropriate.
>


-- 
Dawn Roberts | Director of Collections
The Chicago Academy of Sciences / Peggy Notebaert Nature Museum
2430 North Cannon Drive, Chicago, IL 60614 | www.naturemuseum.org

Collections Facility and Office
4001 N Ravenswood Avenue, suite 201, Chicago, IL 60613 | 773-755-5125

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