When I was younger, my Dad took my family to the Smithsonian, and we traveled through the museum and I looked at models of what rooms in houses looked like during wars and I would imagine what it might be like to actually be sitting in those rooms, waiting for more news from the front lines in Germany, in Japan, in Vietnam, in Korea.
I would envision my husband coming home in his uniform, and then me leaving in mine. I would imagine if the occupants of the house would look out of the window in fear, in case a bomb would fall from the sky, perhaps think that a sailors sky at night was just a little too red.
Years, later, I was at the Sands Point Preserve on Long Island at a museum exhibit they had on Aliens (as in little green men) and the 1950’s and again, I’d look at these model houses and imagine what life might have been like, the fear of Communism creating tension in a room at a dinner party…that lawyer keeps saying things that don’t sound right…I would imagine what people would say to each other, as they took their coat from their neighbor who was stopping by for a minute to talk about the news and imagine the feelings that went through their body as they hung up the coat…what now, what next, who was fingered as a Communist Spy this time…
And then of course, I’d look at exhibits about life during the 1960s and I’d wonder what it might be like to take part of the sexual revolution and I’d try to look through the eyes of those who actually lived in that exhibit…
And I can’t help but wonder if I’m ‘feeling the right’ things so to speak, as I see headlines that says Bush wants 100 billion more for war, is he really a ‘war time’ president; well yes, there’s a war going on so that does make him a war time president. But is this how people felt at other times? Because when I was at the museums I’ve always imagined that the feeling must have been so much more intense, so much more….real.
Just some ruminations.
I have some real stuff to post later.