Doing the right thing

I admit that I get a weird thrill from my daily perusal of Consumerist.com and I can't quite place why.

Whether it's seeing that someone got royally screwed by a company I don't do business with or, worse yet, by one that I do, there's a nice feeling of relief that I dodged a bullet for that day.

No matter what happens, I didn't get a massive bill from AT&T or I didn't get taken to the cleaners when I was buying a flat panel TV (hint, buy online from a reputable dealer) and I can get a small degree of relief from that.

As I've grown fond of saying as I get older, "Things can always be worse."

The downside of seeing these stories churn through day in and day out is that you really lose faith in humanity when it comes to doing the right thing when an opportunity presents itself. Generally if there's a plausible excuse such as corporate policy or legal issues, people are more likely to take the easy route and avoid getting involved.

I'm not really passing judgment here - I'd probably do the same thing if I was a customer service rep getting screamed at over the phone - but it's disappointing to see every day.

That's why I'm happy I stumbled across this tonight. A series of letters from the Warsaw Rising appeared and a team from the Warsaw Rising Museum rushed to add them to their collection. The hitch was that despite the museum agreeing to pay the opening price in the auction, the collector who owned the letters decided he wanted to see what the open market would pay for the letters.

According to the article, there aren't that many letters still around because they weren't typical letters. These were letters that were hand delivered by a small, young delivery service (think The Postman, only not awful and too long) as the Nazis occupied Poland.

All of this was going on during the Warsaw Uprising, which was a 63-day standoff with German troops by an undermanned, novice army that lacked any sort of supplies. I'm not sure mail service would be at the top of my list at a time like that.

That service, run by teenagers and the Home Army resistance, was responsible for delivering 150,000 pieces of mail in two months. Their bravery is remembered as testament to Poland's long-held desire, even in the midst of battle, to function as a free state.

"You have to remember what it was like," said [Jerzy Kasprzak, a patron of the museum who was a 14-year-old scout in 1944], white-haired and brimming with memories. "During the Rising, after two or three days, it turns out people were not so concerned about food or other needs. They wanted to know: Is my son or daughter OK? And that's what those letters meant."

Skip to the end of the story, with the museum pleading for the collection - at what was seemingly a fair price - and the owner refusing to budge.

At 2:40 a.m.—and by this time the Poles were keeping minute-by-minute records of their high-stakes race—auctioneer Ulrich Felzmann had an epiphany.

He could not, according to his contract with the owner, change the actual terms of auction. But Felzmann told the museum team he had the power to change the time of the bidding.

The letters were set to be sold at an afternoon session, beginning at 12:30. Felzmann told curator Lang to find a seat when the morning session began at 10 a.m.

It's the first time this had been done in 32 years and the museum was able to bid unopposed to bring the letters home. Here's my favorite part - the quote from the managing director of the auction house, Axel Doerrenbach, when asked about what he'd done.

"No comment," Doerrenbach said. "But perhaps this helps you: This is the first time in 32 years—in the history of the auction house—that the course of auction was changed. ... And I will say this: We were very satisfied that the items went to the place—and people—where they originated."

Sometimes, it's not about money. Not often, but sometimes.

(Image from: Warsaw-Life.com)

Free, free, free!

For those in Chicago, here's your official heads up that both the Shedd Aquarium and the Museum of Science and Industry will be free in the immediate future.

Gapers Block has the news on the Shedd, which will offer free admission through Jan. 18. Admission to the Wild Reef and the Oceanarium will cost you a few bucks more, but are totally worth it.

After locking people out last week - I assume to strike the Star Wars exhibit and to get some maintenance done - the Museum of Science and Industry will be free from Jan. 12 to 31. Sweet feet.

Apparently, there are no special exhibits that will be open during that time, but there's still a train model and the big ass submarine and the City of the Century architecture. Also, baby chickens.

The reason I bring both of these bits up is because they're both places that deserve a second look, especially for those who haven't seen them since field trips in grammar school.

The Shedd really surprised me this week as they built the new Wild Reef exhibit under the main level and did a nice job of cleaning up the rest of the space on the top floor.

I remember when the Shedd was run down and dark - it was cramped and ugly and wasn't on the top of anyone's list to visit after they'd been there once. It was like a dark alley that smeeled like dead fish. In 1991, they added the Oceanarium, which opened the whole building up and made the space viable again.

I'm not sure what it is about old aquariums, but they always look like run down pet shops. There's a little known National Aquarium in downtown Washington, DC, that is nothing short of awful. Worse yet, it's the only museum in Washington that charges an entrance fee.

It's out of the same Shedd mold of dimly lit, cramped and dated public spaces. The Shedd is seemingly turning a corner with regards to becoming a welcoming place again. The main atrium - home to the massive Carribean tank that everyone remembers from being sent to the Shedd on field trips - is now relit with spotlights, bringing out the architecture, which used to hide in the shadows.

It's pretty funny now because for a while the Shedd seemed determined to live down to it's failing reputation. At one point, there was a swamp exhibit in the front lobby - where the main desk is now - that was essentially a major mud hole sunk into the floor.

Apparently no one noticed when workers were walking off with pieces of the ironwork when the swamp was being filled in until years later when a Shedd employee came across sections of the gating for sale in the classifieds.

Suffice to say, the Shedd was always happy to be the ugly stepchild of the Chicago zoo/museum circuit. Now with baby whales arriving pretty regularly and much-needed upgrades taking place, the Shedd can at least be mentioned in the same breath with the rest of the tourist traps in the city.

The Museum of Science and Industry is another aging institution that is trying to reinvent itself for a contemporary audience. The parking lots have been sunk, funneling guests through a new main entrance below ground. The whole experience is simpler than it had been in the past.

With the building being the biggest final remnant of the 1893 World's Fair, there isn't much the museum's board can do in terms of major renovations, but they seem to be holding their own.

The ugrades to the U-505 are nothing short of amazing, taking the submarine from "1975 Camaro left up on blocks in the front yard" status to an actual museum piece. The big picture is still pretty interesting, as there are the old standbys - the giant human heart, the train models and an entire floor that hasn't seen as much as a paint job in 25 to 30 years - mixed in with newly renovated and technologically souped up exhibits.

It's interesting to walk down the old stairwells with the same half-assed science experiments that haven't changed since I was in first grade and then to see the changes as you work your way through the museum.

So, for what it's worth, there are two major tourist sites open for free and on weekends, too. Totally worth it, if only to see what's changed since the last time you were there. This time, there won't be any nuns to smack you in the back of the head for acting the fool.

Not that you should now, or anything - you're a grown up and these are nicer places these days.