Tut Love

The Mighty G and I kicked off our week by playing hooky. There were so many things we should have been doing to further ourselves as people. We could have been writing sketches for our new show, cleaning our apartments, searching for places to live or jobs to acquire, but no. We decided that today was the day we were going to venture into Beverly Hills and go see the remnants of an ancient civilization. On this Monday, the 12th of September, the Two Gs were going to fog up some museum glass with our awed breath. We were going to crash the King Tut exhibit at the LACMA.

Well, we weren't exactly going to crash it. We bought tickets and waited in line and stuff. But we did establish ourselves as a majorly subversive element right off the bat.

The power went out and delayed our entrance to the exhibit. Later, I learned that the outage was caused by some electrician named Bennie or something that cut the wrong wire while installing an electrical monitoring station in Toluca Lake. While everyone in line was whispering things like "Al-Qaeda threat" and "terrorist from Orange County," the G and I were lugging a bench out to the line so we could sit down and wait comfortably for our turn to go inside the exhibit. Thank God the cool breeze was blowing, or else she would have blown a gasket and I would have had to fork over more money for the audio tour just to drown her out.

Once we got in there, I was truly impressed with all the educational merriment I found in all the artifacts. I oohed over the fact that pretty necklaces were referred to as "pectorals" and oftentimes had the spooky scarab beetle on them. I aahed when I discovered that essential oils were precious, and to protect them, they were kept in stone containers so they wouldn't get too hot.

King Tut was never alone down there, as he had nearly 30 representations of his own likeness with him, as well as numerous statues of servants and items that he would need in the afterlife to help him survive. It's nice to know that he was well cared for.

The funniest thing that I noticed was that lots of the artifacts they got from his tomb weren't orginally made for him. The viscera, which many people are using as a symbol of the exhibit due to its stunningly beautiful nature, was not Tut's. In fact, they crossed out the original name and put his on it. I guess when someone is dead, they can't complain about sloppy seconds. I'll bet that whichever wise-cracking recycler made the name change is super unhappy in the afterlife. In fact, he was probably reincarnated into a fat person's chair or something.

There was a sarcophagus there. It belonged to Tut's grandma, and it was hypnotizing. I got lost staring into all the gold, turquoise, and brown detailing on the lid. It made me think about modern-day funerals and how it's in our nature to put someone to rest in something pretty, hence the hefty fees for coffins. If I had the option of being buried in something as spectacular as that sarcophagus, you'd bet your ass I'd do it.

It also led me to question my own tendency towards racism. As much as I wish things were different, I came to understand something today. I have seen the Tut exhibit as well as the Ramses one years ago, and I consider myself to be sort of a junior archaeologist when it comes to Egypt. I have always loved hieroglyphics, Nefertiti, and the Sphinx and shit. But having said that, I still think that all Egyptians look alike. If they truly look like their sarcophagi, then I can't tell the difference between any fucking one of them. Luya looks like Tut who looks like Amenhotep II. Egypt must have been a city full of cat-loving clones.

We managed to get through the exhibit without offending anyone. We resisted the urge to try on the "Pharoah hats" in the gift shop, and some cashier apparently checked my ass out on our way out the door. We survived it all with flying colors. As we hopped in the car, with "Heart of Rock and Roll" playing on the stereo, I was proud of us. We had made an entire morning a learning experience. We had seen something few people will ever see, and it changed our lives and my decorating sensibilities. We were forever changed.

My serenity was quickly shattered when I realized that the fragile scaffolding of learning we had constructed around our lives was coming crashing down around our ears. We started off the day with grace and dignity, and now the G had rolled the window down, and for some reason, was hanging out of it yelling "HUEY LEWIS AND THE NEWS!" at homeless people on Fairfax.

Sometimes, the more things change, the more they stay the same.

lucky lotus blossom. g