What's new at the museum, you ask?

Odd assortment of little plastic dudes (and dog) 

Yes, I'm still volunteering there, although I definitely have days when I wonder why. You know that old adage about being careful what you wish for? Well, I wished for more members, got them, and have been enjoying cat herding. 

The nadir probably occurred last August when two of the newer volunteers decided to rearrange several long established exhibits, move not-yet-inventoried items out of storage and mix them into the exhibits, and cap it all by selling half a dozen books from the Museum's permanent James Oliver Curwood collection, all without bothering to check with the museum manager (moi) about any of it. And they did it all in a remarkably short time. One actually bragged that it had taken less than half an hour. Holy wah. Not just happy to admit to vandalism but proud of how quickly they had done it.

They had volunteered to work on inventorying and updating the Museum's vintage and antique toys exhibit. That was the one thing they didn't touch.

Speaking of vintage toys, a hard rubber car c1932

There was a moderately humorous element. When I freaked out I was treated to a lengthy treatise via email about how I obviously didn't have a clue how to manage a museum, all my talk about consulting with the National Park Service about museum practice was total bullshit, I was a liar because the person ranting about my incompetence had never seen a person with any connection to the Park Service in the museum, and the whole inventory thing (i.e., PastPerfect) was garbage I'd made up. (If only. If I had designed an inventory program it would be a heck of lot more user friendly than PastPerfect.) 

I saved the demented email, of course. I know stuff theoretically lives forever in cyberspace but it never hurts to archive weirdness. When my offspring heard about this incident they both asked the same question: how fucking stupid are the women that it never occurred to them to Google me? I'm not prone to ego-surfing but the second thing that came up when I did few minutes ago was a reference to me working as an architectural historian with the National Park Service. 

I also asked for keys back, which the person refused to do. Instead she doubled down on how I had no authority, was clueless, and she wouldn't return the keys unless one of the male members told her to. The dude she viewed as the ultimate authority is married to the other idiot volunteer, which makes life a little awkward. He's still saying the two women were good volunteers so we should be "bigger" and let their fuck-ups slide. Hell no, especially when his wife is also the bigot who pretty obviously is prejudiced against Native people (not a good look when the Museum is on the rez). The dude is actually a great volunteer so it's a shame his spouse is a racist moron. 

End result was ~$110 spent on a locksmith changing the locks. 

Minor digression: am I the only one who notices that the person being asked to be the bigger person, to just let things slide, is almost always the person who got damaged the most? 

Anyway, back to the museum. Despite feeling a strong urge to just say, "Fine, you think you can do it better? It's all yours," I resisted the urge to walk. Which turned out to be a good thing, at least for the museum, because in December the historical society was given an amazing offer, a potential million dollar donation, and we're now in the process of nailing that down and proceeding with planning for a major expansion. Details to follow when the donation is nailed down. I do not want to jinx it by saying too much until we've seen some actual funding. If it does come through, though, the museum's footprint will double and it may actually be able to hire a full-time manager. And I'll get to hand in my keys.  

The toys shown were found in a bucket in the museum's storage building. The bucket contained some obvious junk on top, but hiding underneath a dirty rag were the plastic guys, a railroad spike, three hard rubber cars from the early 1930s, and a spud wrench. Once again we found something nifty (the 1930s toys) in an unexpected place.

Words (almost) fail me

 As my two faithful readers know, I volunteer at the local county historical society museum. Things I've assumed responsibility for are the gift shop (such as it is) and online sales. I'm the person who orders books that might sell reasonably well in the gift shop, and I manage sales through Amazon and EBay. One of the books the museum has had consistently steady sales with is a local history, which describes the development and growth of a lumber company town, Pequaming. 

The book has been out of print for many years, but like many local histories the original press run was ordered by a historical society that (as usual) was wildly optimistic about how many copies they would manage to sell. Every time the museum runs out of copies, it turns out there is still another case or two of them stashed elsewhere in the county. We may be coming to the end of the infinite supply -- when I picked up a case of the books a couple weeks ago my source told me there were only two boxes left in addition to the one I'd just purchased for the museum -- but I know as long as we've got some, they'll keep selling.

The book had actually been out of stock in the gift shop for awhile. When the last one sold I'll confess I procrastinated about tracking down more. Still, once I did re-stock I figured we get enough questions about the book that it would be good to let people know. So I did a post on the museum's Facebook page advising folks that if they wanted a copy the book could be picked up at the museum in Baraga. $12 a copy, which is a bargain for a book that is really nicely done (hard cover, printed on glossy paper, lots of good quality photos, decent writing). All people had to do was email the historical society and we'd meet the buyers at the museum at a mutually agreed upon time. Alternatively, they could order the book directly from the museum for $16 -- $12 for the book, $4 for shipping and handling. 

A  couple people did ask about the mail order option. Gave them the mailing address for the museum and said we'd ship as soon as we got their check. Guess how many people have actually done that? To date, zip. Zero. Zilch. 

As for the pick it up in person route? Several people did ask about that. Two of them did make appointments. Twice each. Once again, guess how many bothered to show? If you're thinking it was like the no-follow-through on the mail order option you'd be right. No shows both times. Then one of them had the nerve to suggest trying a third time. 

Nope. Double nope. I figure the hours I wasted going down the luge run to town and back to sit in a cold museum waiting for book buyers that never showed added up to the equivalent of a full day. I live 14 miles from the museum so just the drive down and back can eat up close to an hour. I might go down the luge run like I'm practicing for Le Mans in the summer but once it's snow-covered? I creep. Not a fast trip either way. 

Granted, I did get stuff done while I was waiting at the museum. There is always stuff to do so it's not like I just killed time reading a first edition Tarzan of the Apes (which I actually am doing when I take a break to eat lunch down there; the mix of racism and sexism is kind of mind-blowing)(there were half a dozen Edgar Rice Burroughs 1920s' novels in a donation box; they're in the gift shop now except for the one I'm reading a couple jaw-dropping pages at a time). Nonetheless, despite the fact I did use the time productively, I have noped right out of meeting anyone at the museum during the off season. I may be retired, I may be a volunteer, but my time still has value.

So what happens now if someone wants to buy that particular book or any of the others we have listed on Amazon or EBay? I refer them to the appropriate link. The amount of stuff we have listed is fairly small. One Sterlite tote and it all came home with me. I'll even haul it along when we head for Arkansas tomorrow (assuming the storm has blown itself out and there's no freezing rain happening between here and Portage). But will people be getting that book at the bargain price of $12? Pshaw. Amazon charges fees. I've done the math. When you add in our costs (the price of the books, cost of mailers, postage, the fees Amazon sucks out) there's no way we can sell the book that cheaply. Anyone ordering it online is going to fork over $30.50. And, yes, that is more than double the in-store price, but, hey, not my idea. If anyone complains, I'll just tell them to talk to the folks who couldn't be bothered to keep their appointments.