With the surplus of outdoors survival shows on TV these days, how come there’s never been a special on how to endure the grueling hardship of being slightly disoriented in a corn maze? Can you picture it now?
(Kind of rugged dude with unnaturally white teeth, nearly hyperventilating): “The important thing when you are lost in a corn maze is to stay calm. If you look carefully (camera pans in) you can see there are actually cobs of “corn” hidden deep within these seemingly barren husks. Ancient natives would flip over the stalks and look for the Redenbacher Weevil, which only feasts on the northern side of the stalk. This would lead them to safety. Conversely, a highly trained explorer might have a highly acute sense of smell, which he could use to orient himself to Wacky Willie’s cotton candy stand. As a last resort, expert navigators could follow their ears to the pounding beat of ‘Monster Mash’ and follow speaker cords to their source where you’re sure to find a surly teenager lighting up a doobie.”
If anything took a big hit recently, it was the once-vaunted American pioneering spirit. For in the dark hallows of Danvers, Massachusetts a couple was in such dire straits while visiting the Connors Farm corn maze they called 9-1-1 for help. This was a man, woman and 3-week old baby. I’ve got bad news for the kid; he’s going to the be the one whose parents make him wear a full set of knee and elbow pads to play wiffle ball. The fact his genes even exist is a major coup to the theory of evolution.
Look, I’ve been in corn mazes before. You’re supposed to get lost, that’s part of the fun. Every man, child and Nebraskan knows this. In the off chance you are completely without hope, here’s a pro tip: you can actually walk between the rows of corn, they aren’t electrified (at least in America). Oh, and corn isn’t soundproof. You can always cry out “Help, we’re lost!” or the much more sympathetic, “We brought our 3-week old baby into a corn maze and we’re idiots, someone get us out of here”.
Even though it was the tearful woman who made the actual phone call, the husband permanently and forever has lost his man card. It is hardwired in men’s DNA to not ask for directions, so even if it took them 17 hours to get out the corn maze, most men would insist they were almost there because heck, we just passed that withered stalk with the ladybugs on it. Getting lost and ultimately found (or dying) without the intervention of pesky directions or maps is a source of male pride. The Vikings had it when they sailed to Greenland. Western settlers had it when traversing the Oregon Trail. Even determined businessmen have it when bravely following their GPS to the Holiday Inn in Sheboygan. In this fellow we have the far end of the human spirit of endeavor: we’ve put a man on the moon (good) and we’ve reduced a man to jelly by placing him in a corn maze (bad).
