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Most of my family dreads the thought of going to a museum with me. It really doesn't matter what the museum is, or how interested they might be in the subject, they'd prefer to do something, perhaps anything, else. I recognize that I am the problem. I love museums. One of my early memories is of exploring the King Tut exhibition at the Chicago Field Museum and being drug out by my exasperated parents long before I was ready to leave. I wasn't done reading all that fascinating information....