Lake County Historical Museum

Lake County Historical Museum

Two Harbors, MN

Reviewed September 25th, 2005

Deja vu. The last time we went to a INSERT NAME OF COUNTY HERE County Historical Museum, there was an old lady with poodle hair that took our three bucks and told us about each object in the museum—twice—before we could take two steps in any direction. The same thing happened here, except last time the person told us that "Indians are creepy" and this time, the person told us that bluebirds are creepy. That's right, bluebirds. And you know what, she's right: the little blue bastards are creepy; I shall deny it no longer.

For starters, the poor person had to stand at the register and tend business with a poster featuring a close-up of an angry, evil-eyed bluebird staring at her from behind. Lest I give the impression that the old lady was batty, I should point out that I commented on the evil-looking bird in the evil-looking poster before she opened up with her (truly freaky) story. Which is this: She lived in a house and a bluebird came down the chimney and lit upon her brother's shoulder. He was dead the next day. The same thing happened to her dad. He was dead the next day. Anticipating an (unwarranted) charge of superstition, she said "well, what am I supposed to think? All I know is that I don't like bluebirds anymore." Someone gave her a pair of bluebird earrings as a gift. "I won't wear them," she said. "Never." Now she is extra careful about keeping the flu closed on the fireplace. Now all she has to do is contend with all the bluebird themed objects sold in the museum gift shop without having a panic attack. "People just love 'em," she shrugged with an air of befuddled acceptance. "They just love 'em. Not me though." You have to give somebody credit for working in a place surrounded by the symbols of their personal demons. That takes grit.

The museum is full of tricks, gimmicks and surprises. A banner outside advertises "clean restrooms." Well, marginally I guess. There isn't much to brag about unless you like signs next to semi-stinky toilets that say, "for proper flushing hold handle down to count of eight." When faced with that option, who wants to try? Yuck. Forget it. Not me, said the cat.

The museum itself is advertised as being "free" but only a tiny slice of it is, with barely enough room for three people. The "free" part of the museum features a few dilapidated interpretive signs and an old, amateurish 3-D topographical map with dots that light up when you push buttons. It looks like something your nerdy dad created for a science fair project in 1979 and then donated. I liked it, but I thought it was a bit tacky to advertise the museum as free and then present the worst side of it to potential patrons. Instead why not skip the whole "free" gimmick and proudly advertise the fact that it costs only two bucks to get in? The bait and switch tactic is typically only deployed to reel in suckers when you want to make lots of money, not when you're just charging a few bucks to cover operating costs. Is the museum management really so desperate that they think only this sort of deception will motivate people to shell out two measly dollars? What a sad statement that is. Most people pay twice that much for a bad cup of coffee, let alone for the privilege of looking at a collection of funky objects for half of a rainy afternoon with nothing else to do. In developing countries apologies or excuses are made when two American dollars are asked for a service. At the very least a spiel, gimmick or song and dance is prepared. Two dollars might be two years' wages in a place that sports child soldiers, dengue fever and National Geographic photographers. But in Two Harbors, Minnesota? Should I laugh or cry?

Moving on, I can enthusiastically and wholeheartedly assert that two dollars are well spent on admission to the Lake County Museum. This place can simultaneously boast one of the oldest promotional Smokey Bear only-you-can-prevent-forest-fires posters (along with a uniform jacket you can put on and pose in) along with a movie about wolves and a nazi Hitler's Youth dagger - and who knows, maybe it's the same kind that was once carried by the new Catholic Pope! The Paleo period archaeological artifacts were perhaps the most interesting individual objects to me. Collectively, the museum as a whole resonated with a hum of quiet atrophy. Perhaps it would make more sense to build museums in graveyards. After all, graveyards house dead people. Museums house dead things. From the dusty, fingerless mannequin to the cast iron button making machine, this museum especially seemed like a forgotten place dedicated to collecting and ordering eclectic collections of things so that they could all be forgotten together and fade away before our half-interested, unsparing eyes.

- Justin Teerlinck

RESTROOM RATING: 5
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