Goose

For me, the museum was always a minor key, but for D, it was the wish of his ten year old little boy self, as well as the distinguished historian. It proved to be a very large room full of aircraft, about what I expected, but not quite the experience D imagined. He loved Dogfights, for the interviews with pilots, in contrast to the purple prose of the narrators. I watched along with him, usually while writing for this space. The vets were captivating in their laconic delivery of life and death stories, both of us enjoyed this aspect.

At the museum, I got to a point pretty quickly where I thought, "wow. another plane." Granted, we missed the tour times, and that might have helped. Blame the weather, there. But the maritime museum in Astoria enchanted both of us.

As for the Spruce Goose, my uncle Walt told me about it when I was very small. I read about it's being at the museum on Roadside America, and how visitors would walk through, and ask where it was. Museum staff would point up. It is so large, it is nearly invisible. Took both of us longer than it should have to see it. A grey background, more than an entity. An elephant in the room, too big to actually see. Like having a 4' inflatable emperor penguin (named George) in one's living room, it doesn't quite register, being out of place, off the scale. Yes, there are beach balls, in the wings, to keep the wings afloat, if necessary. Yes, it's made of wood. Somehow, it's not as big as I imagined, but that might be because the building is so large. Same with the Titan rocket, nothing to compare it to, so it just exists outside of normal space.

Long day at work. Figures.