The coolest place to see in the desert

Desert flowers.

The second leg of our western trip brought us to Tucson, where we visited with our friends Gena and John and their children Ellie and Johnny.

And I admit that when I found out they were going to take us to the Desert Museum, I thought the same thing as Gena's sister, "Wait, is that a thing? Is it just a museum of different cacti and grains of sand?"

It does, in fact, have cacti and sand and much more. It's pretty awesome, even if the mountain lions didn't cooperate and stayed hidden in their den.

A forest of Saguaro cacti at the Desert Museum. 

It offered amazing views of this part of the Sonora Desert. There are several types of cacti in the desert with the biggest ones, the Saguaro, standing like trees. Many of the big ones are well over 100 years old because they don't grow arms until they are at least 75.

The museum also has all kinds of desert mammals, snakes, birds and other critters on display.

Prairie dog on the move. 

That included a family of bighorn sheep. We were there in time to see the most violent attempt at nursing nature has ever produced. The little bighorn sheep calf trotted under his mother and jumped up at her hard as the bugger could. I hurt for her. (I'll skip the utterly ridiculous jokes).

Got milk? 

And petting stingrays (that have been de-stung) also is a thing. They did not come from the desert but from the Gulf of California, which is considered still part of the regional ecosystem.

John, Johnny, Gena, Ellie and a mysterious lady with a black hat (Elizabeth) try to coax the stingrays to brush by their hands.

Another missed opportunity. It thought about letting her pet it but then decided Elizabeth's hat looked too funny.

I spent much of the time trying to take pictures, which was easy with stuff that stayed still, like flowers and cacti and grains of sand. 

Meta shot. 

The hummingbirds were a different story. I'd get all set-up with the lighting and color balance and a fast shutter speed and try to focus on one, and as soon as I'd take the shot, zip -- it was gone.

This was the best I could do. 

 I'm pretty sure they were messing with me. 

Documenting life in the city

On Monday we visited the Museum of London, which featured a thought-provoking exhibit on street photography in the city from the 1860s to the present.

Street photographers have met some resistance in London ever since the July 7, 2005 bombings, in part because of fears about national security. (Which is odd considering that CCTV is everywhere in London -- it's predicted that there is one camera for every 14 people). Not to mention that our society is more protective of our children than any previous generation; one veteran photographer predicts this will be the least photographed generation of children in at least 150 years.

As a bit of guerrilla street photographer myself these last few weeks, I really appreciated what the photographers were trying to accomplish and how difficult it can be to accurately capture city life. No photos were allowed in the exhibit, but I'll post a few of my favorites from the catalog here:

• Feeding the Pigeons in Trafalgar Square by Henry Grant (circa 1950-1959).
• General Perspective of Picadilly Circus: 19th Century by Charles A. Wilson (circa 1889-1891).
• Fog at Cambridge Circus by Wolfgang Suschitzky (1935)
• Street Market by Corry Bevington (1960)
• A man walking with umbrella in New Oxford Street by David Gibson (2008)
• Recruiting Sergeants at Westminster by John Thomson (1877)

And my absolute, No. 1 favorite:


Big Ben by Steven McLaren (2007).
Photo courtesy of the Museum of London.

If you want to know more, there's an interesting article about the exhibit from Phaidon.

What to do with my new coat of arms?

Ever since my internship at the National Baseball Hall of Fame in 2007, I always evaluate museums based on the interactivity of their exhibits. Sometimes this can be done in little ways, such as opening drawers to see additional items. But other exhibits are more elaborate. Two of my favorite museums here in London have some interesting ways of getting visitors involved. They may be aimed at kids, but I enjoy them nonetheless.

At the Victoria & Albert Museum, you can learn how to tie or cravat or try on a hoop skirt and petticoats following step-by-step instructions. Or you can use computers to design your own monogram or coat of arms.

The heraldic description of my chosen arms: Per pale azur and vert a chevron argent three roses gules. I chose the horses because of Kentucky. My motto, Nil Desperandum, means “Nothing to Despair.”

Another computer will allow you to design a fabric pattern for an 18th century dress. Even more awesome, you can email the pattern you create to yourself afterward. Here's mine:

The fabric I created at the V&A.

Over at the Churchill War Rooms, you can try "painting" one of Churchill's landscapes on the computer, or wear a replica of his hat and coat. The centerpiece of the museum is a huge interactive timeline that you can learn about in this short video:



Dr. Everhart: This is not the photo I want you to grade. It was my practice video. Please grade the one I post on Monday about the deck chairs in the Royal Parks.

"No, he wasn't punished, it just broke off"

Statues that make up part of the Elgin Marbles. Only Dionysus has managed to maintain his head through the years.

Although the British Museum is a self-guided tour through the evolution of civilization, the hordes of people visiting on Wednesday meant we were never wanting for commentary.

I ended up behind a father and son of about 7 or 8ish when entering the Elgin Marbles exhibit of plaster castings of the stone-carved mural that surrounded the Parthenon. It's a series of depictions of men preparing to go to battle, some on horseback and most didn't seem to bother with getting dressed that day. When looking at the first one, the boy must have asked about why one of the men didn't have -- how shall I say this? -- all of his manly equipment anymore. I wasn't paying attention to the kid's question but I had to stifle a laugh at the dad's answer: "No, he wasn't punished, it just broke off."


Ryan looking at friezes that are part of the Elgin Marbles collection​.

Amid the crush of other visitors, we saw the Rosetta stone, the Egyptian tombs and statues, and the remaining pieces of the Parthenon. Most of the statues of Greek gods from the Parthenon are headless, so the curators have had to hedge on which god or goddess it is. For that, we can all thank the genius who in 1687 decided to store gunpowder in the Parthenon while Athens was under siege by the Venetians. Seriously, how was that ever a good idea?

Elizabeth unintentio​nally being Egyptian. Ryan kept telling her to move back, and she did thinking she was in someone's way. Then he snapped the shot.

Upstairs, we met Ginger, the poor dead Egyptian who was buried in a shallow grave of sand around 3400 BC and was baked for 5,000 years. Now, he lies naked in the fetal position to be gawked at by millions of people each year. If Karma exists, you'd think that was a better fate for someone who ordered explosives to be stored at one of the world's most historic places.

Click here for more photos from the British Museum.

Facebook for Dead People

The stop at the National Portrait Gallery on Tuesday wasn't on the initial plan. But it proved to be an informative and interesting diversion -- so much so that we got booted out at closing time without seeing about a third of the museum.

National Portrait Gallery

The Tudor and Elizabethan section, of course, contains original portraits of all the main players of that era. But an even cooler feature is the "New Research" tag on the information placards that describe scientific revelations about the age of the paintings. They all seem like great plot points for the forthcoming season of CSI: Art Galleries. For instance:

• Big blue find. The portrait of Catherine of Aragon -- the first wife of Henry VIII -- was thought to have been painted while she was alive. But alas, the forensic experts discovered the presence of "Prussian Blue," a hue not created until nearly a century after Catherine's death.
• Wood-n't you know. They also examined the wood beneath the portrait and through carbon testing, can estimate the age in which the tree was felled. In the case of Anne Boleyn, that method confirmed that her portrait was painted while she was alive.
• Painting by numbers. On several of these 16th century portraits, researchers X-rayed the paintings only to discover detailed pencil sketches that served as templates underneath the paint. In other cases, they found charcoal dots that were the result of using a template to lay out complex or exact details, such as the shirt design on Sir Henry Lee's 1568 portrait and a life-sized drawing of Henry VIII that was used as the template for a wall mural at Whitehall Castle.

Meanwhile, in other parts of the museum, many portraits came with tantalizing anecdotes. Some highlights:

• The placard with the Victorian portrait of Lady Colin Campbell described the subject as a journalist and socialite who separated from Lord Campbell after a notorious court case. But it goes no further. Well, a summary of a recent biography of Lady Campbell (titled Victorian Sex Goddess) says she won legal separation from Lord Campbell in a long-running divorce case after proving that he knowingly gave her syphilis.
• Another interesting Victorian one: The portrait of Robert Louis Stevenson shows the author seemingly relaxed. That was because, according to the placard, he spent the Sunday afternoon of the sitting at artist William Blake Richmond's house with other friends. And the artist and author traded ghost stories, gave their thoughts about the police and talked about suicide as Richmond painted.
• Worth it for the title: This portrait of musician Paul McCartney was painted by British artist Sam Walsh, a friend of McCartney's brother, Mike. Hence the title, Mike's Brother.

We actually enjoyed the experience so much that we went back again on Wednesday to see the rest.