As I’ve mentioned on more than one occasion, I’m severely directionally challenged. I have admitted this openly, without shame, in hopes that I might be an inspiration to those out there who, at this very moment, might be looking up at the Seattle Space Needle and wondering:
When was this thing moved to Atlanta?
I specifically mention the Space Needle because experts suggest that people who are easily lost should use landmarks as a way of maintaining a sense of direction in unfamiliar territory. For me, this means staying keenly aware of my surroundings while, at the same time, avoiding eye contact with anyone who might actually be willing to offer directions. Though some think this stems from my stubborn streak, it’s really more about avoiding a conversation that begins something like this:
Hi there. I seem to be lost. Can you tell me the easiest way out of the parking lot?
This is no exaggeration; I actually did get turned around in an unfamiliar parking lot this week. That’s because I made the mistake of not retracing my exact steps back to the car. Instead, I took the nearest exit leading from the building and proceeded directly outside which, for me, was like walking into the “Upside-Down Room” at the House of Mystery. I eventually discovered that I was at the complete opposite end of the parking lot from where I came in — but not before my wandering caught the attention of at least three people who stopped to ask if my car had been stolen.
Because of this condition, the thought of trying to find my way through a “haunted corn” maze sounds about as fun as trying to find my way…
Well… just about anywhere else.
Apparently, for a few dollars, I can do what I normally do, except with the added benefit of being completely surrounded by corn. To me, this is a little like someone with claustrophobia paying for a chance to spend the night in a 55-gallon drum. For my kids, however, it’s an opportunity to participate in something they say could become a “special Halloween tradition.” In my opinion, it’s really not that special; I get lost near corn all the time. In fact, throw in some more fruits and vegetable and it’s pretty much like me going to the supermarket.
Of course, it’s not usually in the dark with people dressed as maniacs jumping out from behind the cantaloupe.
That’s generally at Walmart but with the lights on.
Because my kids have their hearts set on this Halloween experience that will bring our family even closer together before the reading of my Last Will and Testament (which will probably take place right there in the corn maze), I decided to call the maze in question and see if there was any chance my $10 fee included a global positioning device. I was told “No,” but that I had nothing to worry about.
I thanked him for his assurance and assured him I plan to eat as much corn as humanly possible until rescued by a search party.
He said he hoped I was hungry.
So if there’s no column next week, chances are I’m still stuck in a corn maze somewhere near Junction City, Ore. If any of you happen to be out that way, I’d appreciate some help finding my way out.
You know where to find me.
Which is more than I can say for myself.