This, I'm sure, is an insight into my personality.
I think life-sized mazes you get lost in are fun. I've done a couple of mirror mazes and one hedge maze, and have come to the conclusion that I kind of suck at them, but they're fun. I do get lost easily, though. I'm pretty good at remembering where I am when I'm in a city -- make a left at the McDonald's, turn again just past the gelato shop, that sort of thing. But in a mirror maze, about all you can see is ... you. And in the hedge maze, it's all hedge. Hard to find landmarks when it all looks the same. Each time I've stepped in, I've gotten pretty disoriented shortly after entering, and have only made it out by luck (or, at that hedge maze in England, the assistance of some kid yelling to her Dad to "follow my voice!")
Jeff and Susan initially found an 11-acre corn maze out in Temecula, which is, like, 100 miles from here. And while we first considered getting our 'Murica on (the maze is mown in the shape of the Statute of Liberty, with the text: "America - Land of the Free Because of the Brave. God Bless Our Military") we decided to take a pass on the place because it was so far away (and because I was a little cautious of whatever the hell "Show your Patriotism on our Wall of Freedom!" meant in the advertising), and we ultimately settled on a 4-acre job which was much closer (and the pattern of the maze was a little farmhouse with the farmer in front of it, so I was pretty sure they'd let us in without us having to prove ourselves on the Wall of Patriotism).
But we also picked this one because (1) it wasn't one of the scary Halloween ones; and (2) it had jokes to solve!
We were a little late arriving (because I'm slower getting started on the weekends (I can hear my coworkers say "riiiiight, just on the weekends") and also the cat is snuggly). We arrived at the local farm (Forneris Farms) ponied up our cash (but, sadly, not for the pony rides -- they had a weight limit of "ha ha, no"), got our wristbands, and made our way toward the maze entrance.
They give you a postcard which has a map of the maze on one side -- and also a phone number to call in case you get super lost. On the back, the jokes. Seems there are 12 little visual puns on numbered posts hidden in the maze. You've got to find all the posts, solve all the puns, and match the post number to the solution on the back of your postcard. When you're done, plop your card in a box at the end. (Randomly chosen winner gers $100 and a big pumpkin.) OK, then, we're in. But we're not using the map. Maps are for wusses. It's only four acres; we're gonna do this thing ourselves.
We walk in. Turn, turn, and ... a choice. Turn right, or go straight and turn right ... or, further down there are actually three right turn options. Now, afterward, looking at the map, I see that those three right turns are actually the sides of two squares which plop you right back on the main path where you started. But, in the maze, that was utterly lost to me.
It was not lost to Jeff.
We had not been in there that long when Susan pointed out that Jeff is an Eagle Scout. It was all corn to me, but Jeff was noticing that broken stalk over there, or that pile of mud I'd stepped in, or that bit of green fence, or the Cheez-Its some kid had dropped (ok, to be fair, even I saw the Cheez-Its). I guess if you know what nature looks like, and pay attention, the landmarks are as clear as the McDonald's and the gelato shop. But, for me, I would've been hopelessly lost in what we'll safely call no time at all.
We found our first little joke on a signpost, except it was numbered 2, rather than 1. We then found 3, and -- having confirmed the damn things are in order -- realized we had to go back for 1. From that point, our plodding through the maze was not geared toward, "Hey, let's find the exit," but "let's cover this whole thing from start to finish, so we hit all the jokes." And we did. Every one. In order.
This is what happens when you put nerds in a corn maze.
Slightly Type-A nerds.
(Shut up, all of you.)
The jokes -- or, actually, "CORNundrums" were things like a picture of a ducky on an office chair, which was "Sitting Duck."
I requested the 50 for 50 photo be taken in front of this one, figuring it wouldn't get better than this:
OK, you may have trouble making that out, what with the holy rays of sunlight beaming down on us, but that there is a deer in front of an outhouse (with a little green tractor behind it, just in case you need the extra hint).
Once we finished and dropped our completed cornundrum entry cards in the bin, we got some beverages and sat in the shade. I got lemonade. I don't even like lemonade. I might drink lemonade, like, twice a year. This was a lemonade sort of day. You spend an hour walking in a corn maze, you drink some lemonade. I shoulda prolly been pickin' my teeth with a piece of hay or something.
We talk more about mazes and getting lost. Jeff concedes that he'd never looked at the map, and was just navigating us through that thing by mentally dividing the place into sectors and making sure we covered each one. Rational. Tactical. If I even need a search party, I'm putting Jeff in charge of it.
We talk about families and growing up and how neighborhoods change (and how you're not going to find your way through the old neighborhood if the bookstore is gone and the McDonald's is now a Starbucks). We talk about houses and HOAs and floods and plumbing problems and none of these things have anything to do with mazes, but are still things we have to navigate.
It's good to have friends to help you make your way through.
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