Stu Bykofsky: Mummers, maybe it's time you helped your museum

PALMA LUCAS says that her husband, John, jokes that she was in the cement when it was poured for the Mummers Museum.

She was there before the costume and prop-filled deco-ish postmodern building opened on April 1, 1976, and she's still there, executive director since 1995.

I ask Palma, who stands about as tall as stack of poker chips, if there was a message in selecting April Fool's Day for the opening.

It was just the best day, she shrugs, but there were some "experts" who said that the museum at 2nd & Washington would last about five years. "We've been fooling them ever since," Palma says, with a satisfied smile.

The Liberty Bell. Independence Hall. Rocky. Mummers. All are quintessentially Philadelphia.

The first three are going strong. But the Mummers Museum?

It's always been a struggle, Palma says, but money's tighter these days. There were months when Peco came close to cutting off the lights and PGW came close to turning off the heat. To save money, the air-conditioning in her third-floor office is turned off as we chat.

"We do need a lot of help, but every nonprofit organization does," says the 73-year-old Palma. "We are extremely nonprofit," she adds, with a smile.

The word that sums up the museum's most urgent needs is electronic. Several electrically operated displays on the main floor don't work at all or work unpredictably. An exhibit that's supposed to run a videotape of a Mummer's performance,

doesn't. An illuminated question-and-answer board balks. An exhibit with a Mummer's recorded voice uses 8-track tape equipment - state-of-the-art in 1976, hopeless today.

The one-of-a-kind Wall of Music has a line of push buttons, each labeled for a musical instrument - banjo, bass, glockenspiel, alto sax, etc. When you press a button, you get the sound of that instrument playing "Oh! Dem Golden Slippers." As each succeeding button is pushed, that instrument joins in. When all are pressed, you have a full orchestration of what some call the "Mummers National Anthem."

But the bass, banjo and sax buttons don't work.

Electricians Local 98 sent apprentices to try and help, but most of the equipment is older than they were. They had never seen some of it before.

The museum really needs a master electrician, but can't afford to pay the going rate.

Here's why: The city doles out $55,000 a year to the museum, but annual operating expenses are $280,000. Insurance alone costs $48,000 a year.

Most of the museum's income comes from renting the 220-seat banquet hall, admissions (a low $3.50), donations and "a few grants we've been able to get," Palma says.

Like a proud but neglected dowager, the Mummers Museum manages to keep up appearances, reluctant to seek the kindness of strangers.

Nor should it.

The museum preserves the unique sights and sounds of Mummery, which is Philadelphia's oldest tradition, next to Brotherly Love.

There are only two full-time employees and three part-time employees. That's it - five. As executive director, Palma is paid a piddling $21,000, but it's a labor of love for the second-generation Mummer.

If you're a Philadelphian and the Mummers don't own a piece of your heart, you don't have one. As one of America's oldest folk celebrations, the precious tradition - ostrich feathers, sequins, satin, masks and all - should fill you with pride.

It speaks poorly of Philadelphia that our iconic Mummers Museum scrapes along with cracks in its walls, chipped paint, faded murals and dysfunctional exhibits. The most logical supporters of the museum, of course, ought to be the Mummers themselves.

They do support it, if weakly.

A majority of the 40 mother clubs buy $100 contributing memberships, Palma tells me. That's good, but kind of cheap. Some provide sweat equity, and string bands do perform for free at the museum on Thursday nights during the summer.

But when individual memberships cost a measly $10 a year, how can any Mummer refuse? Maybe they haven't been asked, as there are only 600 members.

If each of the 15,000 Mummers who hit Broad Street on New Year's Day joined, that $150,000 would be huge for the museum. Is that asking too much for a museum dedicated to them?

And if there's a master electrician, maybe retired, looking for a challenge, the museum would love to have you strut right in. *

E-mail stubyko@phillynews.com or call 215-854-5977. For recent columns:

http://go.philly.com/byko.