First Posted: 11/21/2013
A while back, I wrote a column which deprecated rather odd museums in, what I thought was a lighthearted fashion. Now, despite my attempts at a bit of a tongue-in-cheek humor, I guess I didn’t factor in that there are devotees out there to many pursuits that I wouldn’t consider (neck tattooing and clogging are two others), and some are more than willing to defend their passions.
Certainly, when it comes to columns that are critical, even in a rather innocuous way, there’s always a danger of presenting what columnists always seem to have in abundance, smarminess, especially when we render commentary that is judgmental in nature.
Now, I suppose it shouldn’t have been all that surprising when I got a little blowback from a couple of readers who wanted to staunchly defend their museum choices as not only worthwhile but must-visit places. So, in the interest of fairness, please allow me to introduce them and provide their defenses for the museums they find so enriching.
The first letter I received came from one of our neighbors to the immediate west, the friendly city of Delphos and home to the Museum of Postal History. The correspondence was penned by the museum’s director, Gary Levitt, who took time out of his daily routines (rearranging stamps? Just kidding, Gary!) to defend his home museum turf.
Gary began by using a rather unusual salutation for a business letter formatted perfectly as I remember teaching it in my classroom years ago. “My Dear John,” began the museum director, perhaps a bit more patronizingly than genuinely.
However, by the time I finished the three-paragraph body of the correspondence in which he extolled the virtues of his museum, I realized he was genuinely trying to convince me to come and take a personal tour with him. He told me some of the history of our nation’s postal system, much of it back before online bill paying and emailing and such have thrown the system into somewhat of a financial crisis.
Gary reminded me that the history between newspapers and the postal system is certainly a shared one, so much so, that it was a newspaper publisher that actually designed the U.S. Postal System. So, his admonishment to me was not to bite the hand that feeds me.
Well said, Gary. While I certainly have some other sources of income, what I have been paid for writing and editing others’ writing has bought a burrito bowl or two at Chipotle’s over time.
Gary went on to say that, since colonial times, newspapers have paid the lowest postal rates, in some cases even sent for free.
He encouraged me to call him and arrange a tour, conducted by him, so that I can join the thousands who have come from almost every state and more than 35 countries that have visited. In the manner of a schoolteacher to a recalcitrant student who doesn’t see the merit of learning about something, he issued this imperative: “There is so much I would love to teach you about your world.”
Gary also encouraged me to consider touring what he called the “granddaddy” of postal museums, the Smithsonian’s National Postal Museum in Washington, D.C.
I couldn’t help notice before laying the letter aside that Gary copied the Delphos Chamber of Commerce and Nancy Spencer of the “Delphos Herald,” so I’m assuming my smugness was probably noted by some others in Delphos.
The second reaction I got came from Janet Schroeder, who identified herself as both a weekly and monthly reader of my musings in this paper and in Our Generation’s Magazine and also a retired educator like me. Her first paragraph included some touch points of mine, ones I have reiterated from time to time, and ones that she is in total agreement. Of course, that was the first shoe. The other was heading for the floor and landed with both a thud and a double space before and after the phrase, “Until the Mustard Museum comment.”
Janet went on to tell me about what sounds to me like a delightful tradition, a mom-and-her-four-daughters annual summer trip, this one to Wisconsin. She told me of the charming B & B where they stayed and the beauty of the Dells, which brought back some nice memories of my own childhood trips to the Dells to visit my Aunt Ruth and Uncle Bob, who ran a resort overlooking a lake.
In her recollection of that familial bonding excursion, Janet reserved most of her praise for the National Mustard Museum. She told me of the museum’s humble beginnings, a husband in 1986 sent by his wife to the grocery and being overwhelmed by the number of mustard choices, so much so that he bought one of each variety.
From filling all his pantry shelves to expanding to the garage as he found more and more varieties, he eventually just had to share what has grown to more than 5,000 mustards in a museum and gift shop format, both with his town of Middleton and the world who would beat collective sets of feet to Wisconsin for reasons that had nothing to do with cheese. Janet said visitors have come from every state in the union and 60 different countries (which may just prove that almost twice as many foreign travelers care about mustard than the postal system).
She also told me the museum offers free admission; plenty of free samples of mustards made with fruits, liquors and even root beer; videos on the history of mustard; and even a certificate at the end of the tour that indicates that a visitor has graduated from Poupon U as an acknowledged mustard expert!
Well, both Gary and Janet, actually in a very nice way, told me what we all should probably remind ourselves often, and that is we’re on pretty thin ice when we criticize things about which we really don’t know much.
Both museums will be seriously considered for my future travels, so, Mr. Gary Levitt and Mrs. Janet Schroeder (with either a long a or a long o in our local age-old pronunciation quandary), please consider this my column of mea culpa.
