Day at the Museum: Magic and Mystery at the Museum of Natural History

I’ll always remember my third grade trip to the NY Museum of Natural History. I don't know what I remembered most, the bus ride or the impressive arches of dinosaur bones we discovered off the elevator on the fourth floor? The huge stuffed animals grinning from their cases, or the sparkling minerals and ivory necklaces in the gift shop I never had enough money to buy?

Whatever it was, years passed, I had my two children, and as they entered the preschool years, I resolved to take them there. But for one reason or another we never found the opportunity to go.

Then Night at the Museum came out.

My kids watched the brilliant fantasy comedy movie first at the ages of 3 and 4, and several other times after that.

That was it. They were hooked.

Who could not resist the shleppish overnight security guard Larry (Ben Stiller), in over his head with a museum of animals and historical figures coming to life? Each time my kids watched the movie, they became more and more familiar with the animals and historical characters. Through the movie, they learned about monkeys and dinosaurs, Huns and cowboys, Teddy Roosevelt and Sacajewea. And don’t forget the Easter Island “Gum Gum” statue who blows a bubble larger than the front fender of your car.

Now it was not only me talking about taking them to museum. THEY were asking to visit so they could see the characters from the movie.

This past weekend, the entire family ventured to the Museum of Natural History for the very first time.

“Hey Mom, there’s Teddy Roosevelt on his horse!” exclaimed my almost-6-year-old son Benjamin.

“Mommy, where is Gum Gum?” asked my daughter, Juliana, 4 ½, going on 13.

“What if there was a Night at the Museum sequel and the ocean animals came to life and swam all around the museum?”

As we snaked through the cavernous halls, we encountered, glowing in their cases, the inside of a Plains tipi, a giant Buddha, grizzly bears, Chinese brides, Tibetan monks, burial sites, spears, bones and zillions of mute artifacts.

We stopped to watch an old film about the Yanomamo of the Amazon Rainforest. The film had a crackly quality like a classic anthropological case study from the ‘60s or ’70s. Wearing nothing more than their little cloth coverings, the natives made poison spears to kill fish and lured them into long, slippery nets. They grated the cassava root and drained out its poisonous juice. They roasted a whole fish over the coals. The kids were fascinated at first. Benjamin liked the spears and the swords. After about 10 minutes he started to squirm a bit, and my husband and I gave each other eyebrow signals about leaving.

But Juliana held her ground. “Aw, do we have to leave? I like this, Daddy!”she said. “Can we watch this at home?”

In a way, our day at the museum was one big adventure story. It wasn’t a nocturnal Jumanji tale like Night at the Museum, but it was the chance to witness the history of the natural and human world inhabiting a magical space for a few hours. Not something you see on the streets of Queens every day.

For the record,to my kids' delight we did see the “Gum Gum” statue in the Hall of Pacific People. We waited on a line of about 5 other people to get our picture taken with the infamous monolith.“Where are the cowboys?”


Before departing, we rested supine under the gigantic big blue whale suspended from the ceiling in the Hall of Ocean Animals, partly contemplating our human dimensions, partly enjoying a few minutes of R & R before the kids started clamoring around for our attention again.

Then the announcement came. It was closing time.

Night at the Museum finally led us here, and let us out the better for it.

One Woman Wising Up to 40: I Wanna Dance My Life Away

I had it all planned out. My girlfriends and I would celebrate the big 4-0 in style. About a dozen of us would go to see the drag show at LIPS in the West Village, or go to a swank restaurant in the meatpacking district with a limosine. It would be just like a Sex in the City adventure – only without the sex. My husband would surprise me with something absolutely wonderful and I’d have many memorable photos to share afterwards.


It didn’t happen like that at all. About a week before my 40th birthday I got sick – really sick – with a severe case of bronchitis which quickly led to pneumonia. I was so sick, I couldn’t talk or get out of bed. I could barely breathe, and ran a 105 degree fever. I had to be hospitalized for 4 days.


One night around 2 in the morning, watching the endless chatter of cable TV in my hospital room, I sat up on the adjustable bed and looked out the window across the alley at the poorly lit building that would become the hospital’s new wing. I said to myself, “enough is enough.” I left the pity party, picked up my cell phone and downloaded the campy 70s Leo Sayer hit, “You Make Me Feel Like Dancing” and I perked up, straightening out my turquoise hospital robe, bopping to the beat. The Filipino nurses wandering around like sleepwalkers didn’t seem to notice me, but I didn’t care. I knew at that moment that I had to get the hell out of that place, or my health would slide backwards and I could take a turn for the worse.

And if you'll let me stay, We'll dance our lives away. You make me feel like dancing. (I wanna dance my life away.) You make me feel like dancing. (I’m wanna dance my life away.) You make me feel like dancing. (I wanna dance my life away.)

As luck and grace would have it, I was released the day before my birthday, weakened and on a battery of prescription drugs, but out of there! At home the next day, a family friend had prepared dinner and dessert and my parents, husband and kids were waiting for me. My husband had no present, I was as pale as a bedsheet weak as weak tea, but I was there! This experience made me grateful to be 40, or any age at that matter, as long as I was not in the hospital.

It also got me reflecting on age. When you turn 40 there are no more illusions about staying young forever. Up until this age you can hide, fake, ignore, deny and escape age and all the associations that go with it. Now you can’t. “I’m here!” 40 calls you like a stray kitten. You try to put her out, but she won’t budge. Kicking and screaming won’t help either.

This also got me thinking about where this aging process started. So I looked back at the decades immediately proceeding this one.

Let’s start with the 20s since that is the first real ‘adult’ decade. Let’s face it, when you’re in your 20s, it’s just an extension of your teens. You are really a babe in swaddling clothes! In most cases you idled your college years, paid for by your parents. When you get out of college, you’re most likely living at home. Even if you don’t live at home, you may sleep on a sofa somewhere and feel that the sky is the limit. But there are still not too many responsibilities, you don’t have too much laundry and shopping to do, and you can try out various career options, travel and play. You can totally waste your time and snooze through the 20s, continuing to explore, imagine and conquer.

Then the 30s hits.

The number 30 rattles you a bit, but then you come to the realization that the 30s are the new 20s, you settle down just a bit more, and find your niche and stick to it. Whether or not this niche is what you really hoped for, you muddle through it with a smile and try to find the sparkle in the situation. You still go out, but then you spend more and more time at home. You get married, then the kids are born, which are a lovely diversion to remind you about the preciousness of life. The years carry on, but you ignore them because in neighboring Manhattan, swinging singles in their 30s still carry on living like they are in their 20s, so why should the 30s bother you?


Then 40 hits. Does everything fall to pieces? Does desperation and panic set in? Absolutely. But there’s good news: the 40s can be magical. They can be a wake up call. Yes, they can even be the new 30s!

Especially in my case, after having been in such poor health leading up to the magic number,40 means waking up and using the coming decade to do all the things I wanted to do in my 20s and 30s but never had a chance to do.

You can’t waste away the next 10 years thinking life will change if you don’t change yourself. The gift of life is to realize its value and to live it. You don’t want to wake up at 50 and ask yourself what the hell happened?

I have heard of many women in their 40s and beyond who run marathons, open companies, travel continents, skydive, learn to dance, meditate, hang glide and I have to say, “Why not me?” Of course I will mold and shape my actions to my own goals & interests – riding a horse on the beach, making more friends, setting up a reasonable exercise routine, becoming a more prolific writer and blogger, among other goals.


So the end of the 30s and the arrival of the big 4-0 does not have to spell doomsday. It can be a time to renew your life. It’s liberating that you don’t have to be perfect, you just have to live life and enjoy it – now.

And if you'll let me stay, We'll dance our lives away. You make me feel like dancing. (I wanna dance my life away.) You make me feel like dancing. (I’m wanna dance my life away.) You make me feel like dancing. (I wanna dance my life away.) I Feel.