The British Museum is following me on Twitter.
I realize this is of little importance to most people. They do follow 38,600 tweeters, so I understand the lack of enthusiasm.
For me though, this is sort of like, oh I don’t know, Queen Elizabeth, the first one, showing up at my door and telling me she, “likes my work.”
There are mummies, actual super duper old preserved mummies in the British Museum. Ginger is a 5,500 plus year old mummy. When I saw her on one of our visits, I couldn’t move. I stood there for, I don’t know how long. It changed me, changed the way I saw life.
The Rosetta Stone is in the British Museum. The answer key to Hieroglyphics? Yes, that one. No big deal, right?
The Parthenon, you know…temple, Greek, built about 400 or so years before a man named Christ, that Parthenon. Pieces of it are in the British Museum.
The most famous chess set in the world is there. I don’t even know how to play chess, but they are the coolest chess pieces I have ever seen. They’re medieval with a sense of humor. My favorite piece is the Queen with wild crazy eyes and her hand up to her cheek. You can crouch in close and see them at The British Museum.
You can’t Google these things, you have to go, breathe it in and stand in the space. The people, places, celebrations and struggles of before.
Vast collections of…well, everything. It is an awe inspiring place, they do important work, preserve and share unfathomable pieces of history. I could spend weeks in The British Museum and somewhere, somehow, they found me and they think I’m interesting enough to be part of their 38,600 club.
Now, my children informed me that The British Museum probably outsources their social media to a company. They most likely just followed me because I follow them. First of all, no. That is not it because they have 363,000 followers and they only follow a tiny, incredibly intriguing, group of 38,600, so that is not it. Step back children.
If they do in fact outsource their tweeting, I don’t want to know. When I received the notification that they were following me, I pictured some dusty, musty, brilliant, glasses, vest, bow tie wearing man, eating his lunch from a paper sack at his desk and reading my blog.
In my mind he is chuckling. He gets my sense of humor. He is emotional right along with my sappy posts, he likes me. He, that PhD carrying, can probably read in a dozen languages, man clicked the follow button.
The magnificence of The British Museum surrounds him, but sometimes especially during lunch, he spends time in the laundry room.
I smiled all day. I am so honored and humbled. If it really is random, if someone tripped and hit the follow button by accident, I do not care. Leave me and Mr. Bowtie in peace.
Thank you to The British Museum. I am now basking in my association.
My thoughts from the laundry room. Don’t Wake Me Up.