{"id":182,"date":"2008-11-30T10:00:28","date_gmt":"2008-11-30T15:00:28","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.greatsociety.org\/?p=182"},"modified":"2018-10-31T09:17:45","modified_gmt":"2018-10-31T13:17:45","slug":"sunday-archive-xxii-american-braves-part-two-of-four","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/?p=182","title":{"rendered":"Sunday Archive XXII: American Braves, Part Two of Four"},"content":{"rendered":"

The four parts to American Braves<\/em> sort of shows where I was planning to move my writing beyond the office computer and onto a “blog,” though we didn’t really have “blogs” in 2000.\u00a0 Not like today.\u00a0 Today I’m free to write about what, exactly, I would do to Maggie Gyllenhaal if I were to discover her stranded in a wrecked car in the Colorado mountains (“I’m your number one fan!!”).\u00a0 Well, actually, I could still do that.\u00a0 But it was more of a newsgroup thing.<\/p>\n

Anyway, my idea was to sort of launch a travel website where I wrote stuff like American Braves<\/em>.\u00a0 How that turned into Dirtyfreaks.com?\u00a0 Only the whisky bottle knows for sure.<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

The Amazing Maize Maze:\u00a0 Corny Americana<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

Cherry Crest Farm, Pennsylvania.\u00a0 Today we are astronauts.\u00a0 The brochure says that we are \u201cabout to make one giant leap into endless stalks, trying valiantly to prove that there is intelligent life on earth.\u201d<\/p>\n

We will fail in this quest.<\/p>\n

The Amazing Maize Maze is the brainchild of Don Frantz, a former minion of Disney and co-owner of the American Maze Company.\u00a0 Deciding that raising corn alone wouldn\u2019t bring in the profits, Frantz and his corporate team developed the 5-acre cornfield maze that has reached a certain level of fame.\u00a0 Well, the morning talk-show level of fame.<\/p>\n

Each year, the Maize Maze takes on a different shape \u2013 a locomotive, a wagon train, the secret tunnels beneath Disneyland and, this year, the solar system.\u00a0 Families enter the 5-acre corn maze and weave their way through meandering corridors, the summer sun burning them into ashes.\u00a0 No joking \u2013 this thing is hard.<\/p>\n

We were driving along US30 when a hand-written sign proclaimed \u2013 \u201cMAZE!\u201d.\u00a0 Something clicked in my head and I anxiously grabbed Liam\u2019s arm \u2013 \u201cRight, turn right.\u00a0 We have to go to MAZE.\u201d<\/p>\n

As we drove down rattling county roads, led along by scrawled cardboard signs, I explained the history of the Maize Maze:<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s really weird stuff.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat do you mean?\u201d Liam frowned as banjo-playing rednecks lurked in the roadside shadows.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s a field of corn that\u2019s been converted into a complicated maze.\u00a0 Actually a little famous, so it should be \u2013 \u201c<\/p>\n

At that moment, Liam drawled a horrified \u201cOh my god\u201d.<\/p>\n

The Maze comes right up on you \u2013 from endless farmland, you round a bend and you find yourself assaulted by a mass of tourists.\u00a0 The muddied car park for the Maze requires four attendants and, on most days, is full.<\/p>\n

Admission to the maze is $7, snow cones are $1 and there\u2019s a map with pins to indicate your country of origin.\u00a0 Our group selected small, un-named islands in the South Pacific.<\/p>\n

As you enter the Maze, there\u2019s a board of record times designed to get the competitive American male into a vicious mood.\u00a0 Fathers of happy families suddenly turn ugly:\u00a0 \u201c19 minutes?\u00a0 Christ, Charlotte, get moving.\u00a0 Come on!\u00a0 We have to beat 19 minutes.\u201d<\/p>\n

I noted with despair that the longest time was 12 hours.<\/p>\n

We joined the line of tourists and bid Teresa farewell \u2013 she was going to buy some cotton candy and feed it to the goats at the petting zoo.\u00a0 Her evaluation of the maize maze (which would prove to be correct) was that it was a death trap.<\/p>\n

Full of confidence that won the last World War, we, the tourists, surged forward into the \u201cbriefing room\u201d.\u00a0 A loud young man told us about the maze and ran us through some safety procedures.\u00a0 The theme for the Y2K maze was \u201cthe solar system\u201d.\u00a0 Colored strips marked the different planets.\u00a0 The blue strip, with which my team would become intimately familiar, indicated \u201couter space\u201d.\u00a0 There is one port-a-john (don\u2019t worry, though, you\u2019ll circle back to it repeatedly) and two places where you can get some water.<\/p>\n

All the tourists were filled with sportsmanlike bravado until the loud young man leaned forward, his voice hushed.\u00a0 \u201cIf you get lost, there are only two places where you can call for help.\u201d<\/p>\n

This was met with silence.\u00a0 The young man let it sink in for a bit, \u201cOn that tower, overlooking the maze, is our maze expert \u2013 our cosmonaut.\u00a0 He can help you\u2026but only if you find one of the two \u2018telestalks\u2019.\u201d<\/p>\n

Children began to cry as the loud young man picked up a brightly colored flag on a ten-foot pole and began shouting again.\u00a0 \u201cEvery team gets a flag so, if you are lost, just wave the flag and we\u2019ll come get you.\u201d\u00a0 The young man turned to a nearby 8-year-old girl and said, in a barely audible voice, \u201cYou don\u2019t want to be in here after the sun sets.\u201d<\/p>\n

Since sunset was in four hours, there was a collective shiver in the crowd as the loud young man grinned maniacally.<\/p>\n

There is a map to the maze, but in order to use it you have to find 15 way stations.\u00a0 Each station has a mailbox that contains a square of paper.\u00a0 The 15 squares together, affixed to a master sheet, make up the complete map.\u00a0 This was the kiss of death for my team of adventurers \u2013 earlier in the day, we had to ask a stranger if we were in Pennsylvania or Maryland.<\/p>\n

We entered the maze and immediately fell prey to the herding instinct \u2013 the 25 tourists in the briefing room stuck together, the laughter of the loud young man following us through the stalks of corn.\u00a0 After a few minutes of soul searching, people began to split off and head deep into the maze.\u00a0 Surely, we all thought, this wouldn\u2019t be too difficult.\u00a0 Children were here\u2026this was a family outing.\u00a0 There was a petting zoo, for God\u2019s sake, how hard could this little maze be?<\/p>\n

I concentrated on choosing the path less traveled, leading Donald and Liam deep into outer space.\u00a0 The corn rose well over 8 feet and there was no way out.\u00a0 The back of my mind conjured up visions of wildfires, corn thrashers and possessed scarecrows from beyond hell.\u00a0 I kept all of these paranoid thoughts to myself, however.<\/p>\n

Never much of a pathfinder or puzzle solver, I eventually gave way to Liam.\u00a0 After 20 minutes, it was obvious that the maze was an entity unto itself.\u00a0 We had passed the Skittles machine in the \u201cMars\u201d section (signified by red ribbons) several times, we had orbited Saturn no less than 7 times and we seemed doomed to the nether regions of deep space.\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 With his strong background in mathematics, Liam was the only man who could save us.\u00a0 Donald, looking very European with sunglasses and unlit cigarette, seemed content to avoid any leadership role.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat do you think, Donald?\u201d Liam had asked shortly before assuming command.<\/p>\n

\u201cI have no idea.\u00a0 If we all die, I want to go on record as not being responsible.\u201d<\/p>\n

Liam had located the first mailbox.\u00a0 He affixed the small square of the map onto our master sheet.\u00a0 Fourteen more to go but, from this point, Liam swore he could figure things out.\u00a0 We just follow the map on the tiny square until it ends.\u00a0 There was a mailbox for each square, so we reconnoiter each new area and we avoid panic at all costs.<\/p>\n

He mentioned the panic part at that point because I was hyperventilating.\u00a0 Donald seemed relaxed and somewhat aggressive.\u00a0 He started to move like a hunter and, quietly, he told me that he was prepared to defend the map squares.<\/p>\n

\u201cIf it comes to it,\u201d Donald muttered, \u201cWe\u2019ll fight for these map pieces.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIf the corn requires blood,\u201d I replied, \u201cwe will feed it.\u201d<\/p>\n

Donald stared evenly at me and shifted the still unlit cigarette from one side of his mouth to the other.\u00a0 \u201cHave you heard the voice, too?\u201d<\/p>\n

My smile faded.\u00a0 \u201cI\u2019m sorry\u2026what?\u201d<\/p>\n

Liam looked up from his calculations.\u00a0 \u201cAre you two joking?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m joking!\u201d I replied quickly.<\/p>\n

Donald looked from Liam to myself, his face grim.\u00a0 \u201cOf course,\u201d he said slowly.\u00a0 \u201cSo am I.\u201d<\/p>\n

We reached the one-hour mark.\u00a0 Families were passing us and laughing, new people had entered the maze and they treated us like wizened veterans.\u00a0 We had five map pieces, all of them scattered across the master sheet.\u00a0 Not one of the five pieces were adjacent to another.\u00a0 Lost in outer space, the sun blasting us and evening rapidly approaching, despair had set in.\u00a0 I was nervous and on edge, convinced that the postal boxes were moving on their own.\u00a0 Donald had begun lovingly touching the corn stalks.\u00a0 Every once in a while, he would shake and touch my arm, muttering something like \u201cThere it was again.\u201d<\/p>\n

Liam stopped two college guys and asked them if he could compare maps.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat sections do you have?\u201d<\/p>\n

One of the frat boys shrugged, \u201cWe\u2019re not collecting the pieces.\u00a0 We\u2019re just going through.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThey\u2019re lying,\u201d Donald whispered in my ear.<\/p>\n

\u201cBeen through before?\u201d Liam asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou guys lost?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBastards,\u201d Donald muttered, \u201cthey will anger the voice.\u201d<\/p>\n

I turned towards Donald, \u201cPlease stop touching my arm.\u201d<\/p>\n

Liam was insisting that we weren\u2019t lost.\u00a0 He came off a little defensive and the two frat boys laughed and shook their heads as they walked away.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou are marked!\u201d Donald shouted.<\/p>\n

\u201cJesus,\u201d Liam gritted his teeth and turned towards Donald.<\/p>\n

At the two-hour mark, things looked bad.\u00a0 We hadn\u2019t made any progress whatsoever. Nothing had worked for us and Donald had obviously become dangerous \u2013 we all needed alcohol, if only to stop the voice of the cornfield.<\/p>\n

We tried to steal pieces of the map from others, only to find that they were worse off than we were.\u00a0 We tried the scientific method and ended up back at the entrance, confused and near tears.\u00a0 We followed a class of students and their science teacher for half an hour, circling Saturn again and getting lost in outer space.\u00a0 Shortly after that, the students gave up and, as the sun began to sink in the western sky, we decided to throw in the towel as well.\u00a0 It took us 20 minutes to find the entrance again and we rushed to freedom.\u00a0 Coming out of those cornstalks was like walking out of prison \u2013 the sweet smell of petting zoo filled our nostrils and we nearly shouted with joy.\u00a0 Beside us, two 12-year-old girls from France were proudly showing off their completed map to a group of darkly muttering maze-quitters.\u00a0 The loud young man logged in\u00a0 their time at 32 minutes.<\/p>\n

———-
\nInformation on American Maze Company mazes around the country can be found at http:\/\/www.americanmaze.com\/home.htm<\/a><\/p><\/blockquote>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

The four parts to American Braves sort of shows where I was planning to move my writing beyond the office computer and onto a “blog,” though we didn’t really have “blogs” in 2000.\u00a0 Not like today.\u00a0 Today I’m free to …<\/p>\n

Sunday Archive XXII: American Braves, Part Two of Four<\/span> Read More »<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[53],"tags":[137,161],"class_list":["post-182","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-sunday-archive","tag-archives","tag-travel"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/182","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=182"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/182\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1005,"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/182\/revisions\/1005"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=182"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=182"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=182"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}