O nce, on trip with his preschool to visit the New Mexico Museum of Natural History and Science, I walked into an elevator with four-year-old Roy and at least eight other children from his class, a parent or two and a teacher. It wasn’t actually an elevator. It had sliding doors on either side and the space inside would gently rise or fall a few inches but only in conjunction with the 15-year-old video that ran continuously on the wall above our heads, charting the changes in plant and animal life in prehistoric New Mexico. This elevator-that-wasn’t was a destination for the children, though. Even the suggestion of movement of or by a seemingly stationary structure qualified as an amusement park ride of sorts…