You have got to be kidding me
I've spent the past few days (and nights, embarrassingly enough-- I have no mad skills in computer savvy-osity) trying to properly format and lay out the collection's damage assessment, which means moving what can amount to 70 pages or more of hooey (my notes, pointers to thumbnails of images and to full-size images of each object in the collection, the images themselves, and background information on the objects for the use of our tour guides) back and forth, and get a request to take a few minutes to make a few comments on the docents' training manual that's being put together by others in the committee.
Individual tours should take about an hour, just as an estimate. The training manual should provide enough information for the docents to put together a few different customized tours, along with all the necessary information on safety exits, smoking policies, who patrons should contact if their request for a tour is turned down, et cetera et cetera. So I get out my red pencil and prepare to make a few notes and suggestions.
And the docents' training manual lands in my e-mail inbox, and it's....
Wait for it ...
11 pages long.
That's it. A mere list of bullet points. Almost no attempt whatsoever to tie bits of background information provided on the time period or the company to the actual objects on display. I have the information to bulk up the manual to the heft it needs, but that won't involve a few suggestions-- it will involve a rewrite.
Growl.
And one of the people who helped write the manual sent it to me in an e-mail that also "informed" me that Barack Obama isn't really a citizen, a completely inappropriate mixing of business and personal.
11 pages. The mind reels.
Individual tours should take about an hour, just as an estimate. The training manual should provide enough information for the docents to put together a few different customized tours, along with all the necessary information on safety exits, smoking policies, who patrons should contact if their request for a tour is turned down, et cetera et cetera. So I get out my red pencil and prepare to make a few notes and suggestions.
And the docents' training manual lands in my e-mail inbox, and it's....
Wait for it ...
11 pages long.
That's it. A mere list of bullet points. Almost no attempt whatsoever to tie bits of background information provided on the time period or the company to the actual objects on display. I have the information to bulk up the manual to the heft it needs, but that won't involve a few suggestions-- it will involve a rewrite.
Growl.
And one of the people who helped write the manual sent it to me in an e-mail that also "informed" me that Barack Obama isn't really a citizen, a completely inappropriate mixing of business and personal.
11 pages. The mind reels.