We in it shall remember

March 18, 2007

It's sort of a game I play against myself. A test to my memory to see if I can remember the five or six minute speech I used to give relative to the specific era. A speech I often repeated five times a day, almost daily, for much of my early twenties.

It has been seven years since I last led a group of 6th graders or any other age group through that tiny gallery on the fourth floor. Thus, the test of my memory is more challenged - especially as the collection has since dismantled and no longer exists as a prompter when I re-visit. But, I do remember the varied heights of greening bronze Corinthian helmets, the articulated nipples and muscles of the breast plate, that precious, priceless scaled horse's armor (okay, that was Roman… but it was still part of that whirlwind speech in the ancient gallery).

So I watch these films with the historic, epic battle sequences that awe me into dumbness. Then I play the game, testing my memory as I measure the accuracy of the costuming department and the many armorers employed to undertake the task of equipping extras or telling the CGI dept. what to draw on the computer. There is always a detail amiss. Something that budget - or… the determination for the making of eye candy renders insignificant. Although, it is impressive when they get it right… and I recognize it.

So, today it was the 300. I still rack my brain to remember the five minutes as I delight in the fact they made the helmets bronze - resembling those green pieces without the corrosion. It triggers not only the recollection of my brief education in metal history… but also the infinite nostalgia of those manic days, shepherding crowds of elementary students through galleries A,B,C, and D. Maddening. Crazy. Insane. Exhilarating. Educating. One of the weirdest, happiest times of my life.

So, yeah, it is a little on the verge of hubris to parade the obnoxious awareness of such petty details… but the movies remind me of those glory days and confirm what they did not pay in money is burned into my memory as relentless information and the warm glow of nostalgia.

Higgins Armory Museum is an amazing place in central MA. If you haven't been there yet, go. If you go, take me with you. I'll tell you the dirty secrets. And then some.