Mummy Dearest

But after fighting through the sea of curiosity seekers and winding through four fascinating museum chambers in the hotly anticipated exhibit "Tutankhamun and the Golden Age of the Pharaohs,” there was still no dearly departed remains wrapped in cloth and sealed away for (almost) eternity.

The lack of King Tut’s golden death mask was no secret. The Egyptian government declared it a national treasure after the 1970s exhibition tour that stopped in San Francisco and it no longer travels outside the Egyptian Museum in Cairo. The mummy, too, is no surprise. Tut’s remains, the outermost of his three coffins and a sarcophagus also remain in Egypt, ensconced still in his tomb in the Valley of the Kings.

Instead, the exhibit walks attendees through his short reign and possible relatives through a litany of golden treasures, unexplainably detailed carvings, beautiful furnishings and busts that sit alongside black-and-white photos of their original discovery. Talk about history come to life!

One little boy, roughly 5, explained it to another child as they gasped at the ceremonial dagger and assorted ornate collars.

"This is the real stuff. We are very lucky,” he said.

Lucky, indeed, particularly for those who missed the tour three years ago or the younger generations whose foray into Egyptology remains the movies. Amenhetep and Akenaten had some pretty cool relics, too, a man explained to his son, trying to interest the wigglesome tyke in looking at things that didn’t move, growl, light up or invoke a pinch of fear.

"Is that the bad guy in ‘The Mummy?’” the little boy asked.

See? I’m not the only one with mummies on the brain. And it’s not like the mummies themselves had brains — the museum placards explained how they were yanked through the nose by a metal hook and thrown away.

"That’s gotta hurt,” a woman next to me said, rubbing her own nose. "I guess they didn’t really need their brains.”

"I know people like that,” her friend said.

And who knew King Tutankhamun later took a "throne name?” "I need one of those,” said one of my museum-going comrades. "Every time I use the restroom.”

Ah, yes. Mummies were scarce but humor plentiful.

Yet, when you’re talking about ancient Egypt it should be the other way around. Crowds should speak in somber whispers in deference to Howard Carter’s descent into the tomb to lay eyes on "wonderful things.” And after all the masks and collars and internal organ-carrying vessels, these same crowds should be able to ooh and ah at the mummified star attraction.

But alas, no. The exhibit wrapped up, pardon the pun, without Tut or any mummified remains.

The personal fascination with mummies likely began as a child because the museum in my Central Valley hometown — bizarrely — had not only a nameless mummy on display but also a mummified cat. Even better, the human mummy wasn’t even under glass. After scores of children on field trips took turns unwrapping the bandages around his fingers and daring each other to touch his face, museum officials placed the mummy under glass. Years later, experts were called to uncover the mummy’s name, Iret-net-Hor-irw — his throne name, maybe? — and a bit of his history.

Now, after 55 years melding Egypt and Northern California, the mummy faced its last hometown crowds this month and will be shipped to a new exhibit at the Legion of Honor in San Francisco. It may not be the Boy King but at least it’s a mummy. Besides, checking out the show will be like visiting an old friend. A very, very, very, very old friend.

Even without the chance for a little Mummy and Me time at the De Young Museum’s Tutankhamun exhibit, though, the show is nothing to bury on the must-see list. The coffins, the cosmetics cases, the vessels, the masks, the games, the statues, the headrest. The mystery, the wonder, the "how did they do that?” moments. These things are priceless.

And for those of us still tut-tutting over the mummy’s absence, not to worry. The gift shop sells a tiny rubber replica for $1.

Michelle Durand’s column "Off the Beat” runs every Tuesday and Thursday. She can be reached by

e-mail: michelle@smdailyjournal.com or by phone: (650) 344-5200 ext. 102. What do you think of this

column? Send a letter to the editor: letters@smdailyjournal.com.