Granted, my opinion of the Museum of Transportation was based on my 1970s field trip. In my mind, a museum was an art museum. Quiet, peaceful, indoors, elegant. The Museum of Transportation was, to begin, outdoors. There were three rows of six trains each, sitting on real tracks, engulfed in weeds. Not my scene.
Since I was there as a child, the Zoo Folks have taken over and instituted strict rules. No more climbing on the trains. Now they exhaust the children by making them walk. We parked in the lower lot, acres away from the trains. Tram? I kept pleading. Tram? No. Mr. Gary doesn't wait for no trams, sister. Why wait when we can just climb those hills and two sets of steps?
The Museum has branched out to two planes, a boat or two, a fine car exhibit, and considerably more trains.
This train wasn't even ready for the Big Show. It was in renovation.
Strangely, the most interesting thing about the trains was this glazed-over sign.
I deciphered "What Does Bi-Polar Mean?" As anyone knows, it means Saint Louis has the only existing one of the five bipolar electric locomotion motors. I think they should start calling them manic-depressive electric locomotion motors now just to further confuse the obviously stupid schoolchildren who may think Mommy or Daddy is a train. Jeez.
I liked the trains, but I far preferred the autos. They were indoors and elegant. It seems Bobby Darin's car has been there since the 70's because my brother remembered it. The attendant gave us all kinds of extra details not given in the Wikipedia entry, like: the exhaust pipes are in the front and could have suffocated the driver.
The auto exhibit had a strong Saint Louis bent, as you can see by my favorite:
Man, when I was a kid I looked for that place on every trip Aunt Carleen took on Watson Road. A motel with a garage for each room! What a concept! Who would have thought of that? That way, your car wouldn't get hot in the Saint Louis sun. I still remember the day Mom and Carleen revealed to me why the Coral Court was so scandalous, and it had nothing to do with the murder or the recently established hourly rates. It was the garage that tempted the adulterers.
I must say, the best part was ringing the bell on the tiny little rail car by the boat. I think that might have been Gary's favorite as well.