LOL, that was exactly how I felt when at 13, my parents dragged us to the Truman Library.
My childhood memories are stuffed with boring expeditions two states away to view a chair behind glass. Or row after row of old doilies in lighted cases. Of places where you were supposed to whisper in awe-struck tones as you viewed old stuff that just sat there.Your illustration nailed it. Wonderfully wrought!
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