Throwing Stones at Wax Houses


by John Hartnett - Date: 2006-12-07 - Word Count: 769 Share This!

Last Sunday, I took my son and five of his buddies to celebrate his birthday at Madame Tussaud's Wax Museum located right in the heart of the theatre district in New York's Times Square.

We drove over in my Taurus station wagon. That's right, six normal sized 12-year old boys and me. For you super sized SUV owners who might envision my car as a four-wheeled version of a '50s phone booth stuffing stunt, it may surprise you to know that the little Taurus has room for eight - alright seven if you prefer securely storing a drink somewhere other than on top of the roof.

I have never been to a wax museum before and knew nothing about Madam Tussaud's outside of the fact that like all tourist attractions, its bylaws entitled me to leave the museum exhausted, penniless and with the vague but insistent notion that the employees snickered at me whenever my back was turned.

In an attempt to forestall the snickering until we at least entered the exhibit, my wife scoured the Internet for discounts and found one where I could purchase two adult tickets at $25 and receive one child ticket free. According to her calculations, the total cost should have been $119, but the cashier charged me $144. I don't know why, I only know the line behind me was growing longer and more cantankerous as the exasperated cashier puzzled over the promotion for more than twenty minutes until finally coming up with a magic number of $144. The transaction took so long, I can only assume the additional $25 charge was for lodging.

We were finally inside after strolling past a twelve-foot wax replica of The Hulk, which to me was an odd choice to start off with considering there is no real life equivalent of The Hulk. What can you say? "Wow! He looks exactly like... that cartoon character in the comic book. Alright, let's see what else they have."

Next we entered the Opening Night Party exhibit, where anyone who is anyone and attached to the floor with bolts was in attendance. We saw Woody Allen, Bette Midler, Nicolas Cage, Hugh Grant, Oprah, even a wax version of Jennifer Lopez, who rumor has it was briefly engaged to a wax version of Harrison Ford.

The likeness, and attention to detail is incredible and even though the figures are made of wax, I didn't see even a hint of a wick protruding from anyone's head.

After the party we waited in an excruciatingly slow line for the Chamber of Horrors, an exhibit which cost an additional $3. As we stood in place for more than fifteen minutes listening to endless audio loops of actor Hugh Jackman's fruitless pitch for his poorly received movie "Van Helsing", I overheard my son Jack mutter to his friends that they should have called the attraction the Chamber of Waiting,

I wish I could tell you what we experienced in the Chamber of Horrors. It was dark, there were real people dressed liked ghouls who mumbled incoherently like Popeye, occasionally I noticed sacks of something hanging from the ceilings, and then less than a minute and a half after we entered, we were propelled into a brightly lit room like moles suddenly exposed to the sun and when our pupils finished dilating, the first thing we saw was a wax replica of NBC Today's Al Roker, prompting my son's friend Ben to say, "Now it's really getting scary."

There were dozens of other famous wax figures from the world of sports, politics and entertainment but after a while it started to feel less like a museum and more like a department store to me. Also as a public service announcement to avoid the sort of heart breaking disappointment I witnessed in a family of apple growers who had driven all the way from Canada -- there is not and I repeat not -- a single exhibit featuring wax fruit.

For me the most impressive site of all was the figure of the black clad, diminutive wax mogul Madame Tussaud herself. If made to scale, she was a very tiny woman, and could have made one heck of a living as a jockey. But she turned a job making wax replicas from the heads of France's countless victims of the guillotine during the 18th Century into one of the most popular tourist attractions in the world. As we turned for the door, I gave the old Madame a little pat on the back to acknowledge her entrepreneurial spirit, and at that very instant I heard this spine tingling, high pitched cackle.

Does anyone know what a snicker sounds like in French?


Related Tags: children, parenting, culture, recreation, tourism, museum, madame tussaud, new york, celebrities

John Hartnett is the owner of Early Bird Publishing, a manufacturer of all occasion humorous greeting cards (www.earlybirdpublishing.com). He is also the author of Now What?, an online blog at www.johnhartnett.blogspot.com

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