Do not - I repeat - do NOT spend an afternoon at the Exploratorium if . . .

· You are afraid of germs. I mean in any way. If you're one of those people carrying around anti-bacterial gel, just forget about it. It won't help.

· You are afraid of packs of teaming kids hell-bent on touching EVERYTHING and making as much noise as possible and squeezing you out of their way. If the site of a group of polite school children, just out for a soda after school, leaves you reaching for the Xanax, you may suffer from post-traumatic stress disorder after the Exploratorium.

· You really want to learn about science. If you want to learn about quarks and molecules and infinite progressions in depth enough to charm and amaze your liberally educated friends at the local bar, don't bother. Go to the library instead.

Do spend an afternoon at the Exploratorium if . . .

· You have an urge to have children but you really shouldn't be knocking on that door of adulthood for the good of society. Let me tell you, I've felt that urge (mid-to late twenties hormone thing, I'm sure) and after witnessing those before-stated teaming hordes and their germs and the nachos being stuffed into pudgy cheeks and the cries for momma, momma, momma . . . Oh, man, was I cured.

· You have out of town visitors who are between the ages of five and twelve who want to touch stuff without getting in trouble.

And that's where I come in. My boyfriend's niece and nephew were visiting from out of town. Where should we spend a mildly cold winter afternoon after the tidepools had been extinguished? Now, these are nice kids -- great kids, even. And if you bring such nice, polite kids as these with you, keep this in mind: most of the kids at the Exploratorium are mean. Mean, loud and unruly. A giant toddler repeatedly pushed the youngest one of the way in front of the stream of air blowing a beach ball up into space. (I guess it taught the principle of air blowing things around, or something . . .) The nice kid wanted to maneuver the ball. (I admit, I wanted to maneuver that damn ball as well). But the world's largest toddler would have nothing to do with sharing. The Exploratorium on a crowded day resembles The Lord of the Flies on a field trip.

At the Exploratorium kids can dizzy themselves spinning on wheels, they can hear their voices turned into deep, scary drones, they can get shocked on miniature circuits. It's fun. I tried to elicit scientific discussion (yes, a bit of the didactic bore runs through me). The nice kids reluctantly admitted, "Yeah electricity is doing it, sure. But let's go see the man eating plant eat a fly!" What could I do but wash my hands with the anti-bacterial gel yet again and arm myself for another round against Jumbo Toddler? Check out the Exploratorium here: http://www.exploratorium.edu/

Amanda MacPherson

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