Skate or Die No Longer a Choice

Nothing gets you ready for fall like deli slices of people's bodies! Yesterday I went with my friend Trista to see the Body Worlds 3 Exhibit at the California Science Center in Exposition Park. Wow. I was excited to see it because I had heard so much about it. But when I got there, it felt very strange. Not strange like "bodies!" but strange like "these were people." I was remarking to Trista as we were waiting in line that I bet the people who donated their bodies to science had no idea that they would be displayed in positions like "flamenco dancer" or "skateboarder."

I wanted immediately to amend my donor status, as I have the little pink dot on my license. Do you think you can put some restrictions on it? Like, "no plastination positions that involve crouching, bending over, or touching other plastinated bodies. Also, in no way is my body to be displayed in association with defects or diseases (especially relations to being "fat, overweight, large in size, etc.)." I think it's a new priority for me. I was disturbed by the posing, and by the effects used to make them seem more human; for instance, their faces had added skin parts in areas like eyebrows, noses, lips and they had glass eye balls.

It definitely brought them to life, and made me wonder if the learning that was happening around me was worth the questionable dignity of the exhibit. Men's naughty bits were hanging out all over, and ladies breasts, but the vulva was shrouded in secrecy. There were reproductive organ displays, but there was no equivalent to the plastinated penises. No outside lady parts, just uteruses (uteri?), fallopian tubes, and ovaries. Cross sections of obese people and cancerous lungs made for a cautionary tale. So afterwards we immediately had to wash off the ick factor (and the serious B.O. going on amongst the patrons) with a little shopping and eating on Santa Monica's 3rd St. Promenade.

My bounty from the shopping trip was a few bird things:

It was a good gals night out, and I did some learnin' which makes things worthwhile. I have to say, as someone who was kind of weirded out by the exhibit, I can only imagine the dinner discussions that followed amongst the families that were there. There were infants, toddlers, little kids, and tweens there. I probably wouldn't have brought my kid to horror central. My drams last night were not about bodies, though. I dreamt that Jason Statham and I were in a literature class together and he asked me out on a date even though he knew I was married. What is THAT about?