Corn Maze - Davis' Mega Maze

On Sunday, I found myself in a corn maze for the first time and learned that corn mazes are excellent activities to do once in a lifetime.

We drove about an hour northwest of Boston to Sterling, MA and Davis' Mega Maze, the largest corn maze in Massachusetts. I didn't realize there were others, but not only does it appear that there are, I think corn mazing is a bit of an underground subculture. I bumped into a group of people, three of whom wore t-shirts featuring corn mazes from around the US.

The premise of a corn maze is simple - get from the entrance to the exit.

But when entering, we received a pamphlet that included missions, such as crossing all 11 bridges, finding the 6 portions of the actual maze map and create pencil rubbings of each, and completing some type of Mad Libs paragraph that required finding 12 placards throughout the maze.

While playing along with all of this sounded entertaining at the beginning, it quickly took back stage to actually getting out of the maze.

Corn stalks are corn stalks. I'd say that the fun factor dropped from 10 to 1 at a rate of one point per two minutes. After 20 minutes, we were ready to escape.

But we couldn't.

Throughout the maze, employees stationed themselves on the bridges, and were trained to give ambiguous answers to people who wanted to make progress.

("How do we get to the exit?" "You go through the maze." um, duh.)

Finally, we found a couple who saw the looks on our adult faces and lack of children in tow, and sympathized with us. A few turns later, we found the exit.

The highlight of the experience was, hands down, the corn bread. One would think that at a corn maze, there might be many corn-themed delicacies, but they offered just two - popcorn (not from their farm) and corn bread.

This wasn't a little wedge of corn bread, but rather a giant sheet of corny goodness.

I learned that when mixing the sweet cornbread with a few salty pieces of popped corn, the result became a delicious combo.

On the drive home, I realized that corn is also known as "maize," meaning that we had just experienced a Maize Maze.

Yes, that was corny.

Um...

Orange Barrels in Southie

For the better part of the Spring and Summer, my part of Southie has been under construction.

The elderly home on my block has been undergoing a major face lift, with crews drilling and replacing its entire brick edifice.

I Street has been torn to shreds.

And the mother of all projects - Columbia Road - has been an ongoing eyesore. Massive concrete blocks, heavy machinery, steel plates, and diverted traffic all welcome pedestrians and drivers as they attempt to saunter to or drive past the beachfront. I understand that we have about another year to deal with the Columbia Road nuisance.

All of this construction at the same time. It's a bit much.

When I walked outside of my home last week, I saw three orange construction barrels at the foot of my steps.

Great, I thought. They're going to be working right outside of my house.

But then I looked around and saw no other orange barrels.

I looked on the "No Parking" sign taped to one of them, and the period of time blocked off ended on 8/21.

So why are these orange barrels outside of my house?

The only thing I can think of is that they were pilfered from a site and placed in front of my building.

But why??? Who knows.

Here's the problem - how do I get rid of these? I doubt the trash men will take these today (while they are curbside....are they actually garbage?) I suppose I could just move them to stand in front of a neighbor's house, but that's just like sweeping dust from one room into another, moving the problem instead of eliminating it.

I thought about moving them to my basement and using them for parking space savers during snow removal. Gotta plan ahead! We're probably only four months away from the first snowfall.

If they're still on the sidewalk in a week, that's what I am going to do. City of Boston (or National Grid, or Boston Water...whoever owns them), if you want them, you have a week to take them back.

French Canadians for Manny

I wasn't quick enough with my iPhone camera today, missing the absolute most perfect photo op...

As my car was stopped in the right-hand turn lane outside of Rockbottom in the Theatre District, two motorcycles pulled up next to me.

Both sporting license plates from Quebec

Both young male riders sporting identical Manny Ramirez #24 Red Sox T-shirts.

Perhaps they purchased them off the discount rack at the Sox Team store this weekend?

A Week of Contradictions

During the past few days, a couple mixed messages have popped up in my life.

#1 - My poker life is usually spent in ebbs and flows. Just when I think I turn a corner, I regress to playing like a donkey. I'm currently in one of those regressions - to the point that I figured a break for a few weeks would be a good idea. Time to hit the gym, read some books, and begin my kitchen cabinet project.

Then, just yesterday at work, I'm asked to go to the NAB Show later this month.

In Las Vegas.

110,000 people attend this annual convention, including people from 163 countries. The convention floor will have over 1,600 exhibitors. The convention started as a relatively straightforward broadcasting convention, but has since morphed into this monster, all focused on content creation and delivery.

This will be, by far, the largest convention I have ever attended.

That's like bringing a fat kid who was just put on a diet into the All Candy Expo.

I'm very excited to be attending NAB. And very excited to be returning to Las Vegas - somewhere I haven't been in 15 months I believe (I have probably been there about 20 times this decade, 90% of them for work).

#2 - I made it to the gym for the second day in a row (sadly, an accomplishment these days), and after scanning my ID, one of the staff members found me in the locker room and mentioned that my membership had been canceled yesterday.

Hmmm. Odd. I was just at the gym yesterday.

I thought quickly as to what could have happened, and concluded that they did not have the new expiration date on the credit card they used for auto-billing (my old card expired on 3/31/08).

No big deal, he gave me a number to call after I finished up.

So, on the way to Home Depot last night, I called. The billing center informed me that my membership was canceled yesterday. Yes, I told them, it was probably a billing issue since they needed the new expiration date on my card.

No, they informed me. They received a certified letter from me, asking to cancel.

They did? Hmmm.

I told them I did no such thing. They investigated a bit, and learned that they transposed the final two numbers of my account number with the correct person who has elected to cancel his/her account.

So if i am to believe her, and I suppose I should, there was an odd coincidence that my credit card expired on the same day as them canceling my account for an unrelated reason.

No big deal, I should be all squared away.

But I'm taking this as a conflicting sign. Poker on pause, intent to go the the gym more, then I'm asked to go to Las Vegas and my gym membership is canceled.

What should I make of this? None of it was April Fools' either!

Mailing Lists

I'm always interested to figure out how I land on the mailing lists for the unsolicited mail I receive through the post office. What did I purchase, join, or subscribe to? What does my zip code or credit history profile as?

A few weeks ago, I was sent a nicely designed mailer from The Sports Club LA, offering me a free one-week workout. Somehow they thought I was not only an athlete, but also of high net worth. If I'm going to spend money on a gym that I don't use as much as I should, paying 40 bucks a month for my local Gold's Gym is sufficient.

Today, my college - Brown University - sent me a mailer about Pre-College Summer Programs at Brown.

Now, I get why I'm on Brown's list.

But, Pre-College Summer Programs?

Do they think I have a teenager already?

I suppose I could. But, it's a bit of a stab in the dark on their part. It does presume that my teen was born while I was still a student there.

Advertisement for the Giants' 18-1 T-shirt

I find it a bit odd to have seen a link on Bostonist to Busted Tees for this particular T-shirt.

The URL string generated after clicking the ad actually had the referring site as Gothamist, so perhaps they are marketing it on all of the "-ist" network of blogs.

But, out of good taste, they probably could have left Bostonist off the list of sites being served the ad.

Personally, I'm not heartbroken. The T-Shirt battle has just begun. I'm sure I'll be seeing a few "Eli sucks Plaxico-ck" shirts outside Fenway in a couple of months.

Someone Left a Cake Out

I grabbed my camera again this morning to see if I really did see a chocolate cake sitting outside on the street yesterday, and if I did, was it still there?

Rosie and I took a walk down the street on which I recalled having seen the cake. Sure enough, it was still there. And it's not a mini-cake or anything, it's a standard 8-10" round one.

I always wondered what the heck Donna Summer was singing about in MacArthur Park ...


Someone left the cake out in the rain

and I don't think that I can take it

'cause it took so long to bake it

and I'll never have that recipe again


I kind of still don't get the song, but can safely say that I truly never thought I would have a moment such as this. I suppose all we need is some rain, and the song would apply even more.

Free Cup of Starbucks Coffee

Even though their stock is in the crapper this year (my one bad pick of 2007 amidst a number of good and/or lucky picks), Starbucks is still a store and a brand that I enjoy.

A company as highly standardized as Starbucks should seek to eliminate as many variables as possible. Customers expect drinks to taste a certain way every time. Ordering procedures at a store in Kansas City should be identical to those in Vermont.

What I don't understand, however, is their inconsistency in terms of the free cup of coffee when buying a pound of beans.

I have purchased a bag of coffee beans from a number of different Starbucks locations, and about two-thirds of the time, I am told that I am welcome to a free cup of coffee.

The other third is the inconsistency. I have had some store baristas mention nothing about the free cup, and charge me for the tall coffee after I order it, while others (such as today), didn't offer the free cup, but after ordering it, did not charge me, nor acknowledge that it was complimentary.

I think that this is a nice value-add for Starbucks, and should be marketed as such. What good is giving out free coffee if it's done inconsistently and without fanfare. If there were signs in the store promoting the free cup, or if the baristas made more of a spectacle over the free cup when a customer buys a pound of beans, I bet that sales of coffee beans would improve. A simple "your coffee beans come with a free cup of coffee," said audibly so the rest of the customers in line hear it, should suffice.

Similar but related, as I sauntered over to the condiment bar, I waited for another lady to finish using the Half-and-Half. I wanted to put a splash of it in my free tall Christmas Blend coffee. She had a venti coffee (their largest size), poured half of it into the trash so the cup was half-full, and proceeded to mix the remaining coffee with, literally, half a cup of Half-and-Half.

Perhaps she was headed home to eat a Crisco sandwich for lunch, and needed an equally unhealthy drink to wash it down.

The first storm of the year

Southie residents, you surprised me this morning.

Usually, with the premise of a storm, the orange cones, trash barrels, and children's play sets come out to mark spots even before the first flakes fall. In fact, this one looked quite comfy. Rest for weary pedestrians AND a parking spot marker. Two for one!

While many inanimate accouterments indeed now adorn my neighborhood's streets, there were quite a few unmarked spots spotted during my walk to the T.

Are some of us behaving rationally, perhaps? Realizing that many spots were easy to traverse with four-wheel drive, and without a shovel?

Say it ain't so.

I'm certainly, however, happy to see this. I had to leave my car at the office yesterday (my vain attempt to drive home consisted of a 45 minute drive in gridlock around the block, and my better judgment to return to work, ditch the car, and take the T).

It's nice to know that when I come home later, I will have a spot to steal.

Regifting something that's already mine

I completely understand regifting items. I have done it myself, as it's a pretty common practice. Smart. Economical. Environmentally-friendly.

Today, for one of my belated birthday presents, my parents regifted me a gift card they already gave me last month.

Sure, they gave me a few unique gifts that were not already technically mine (a BBQ utensil kit and a digital remote meat thermometer, both from Brookstone), but I couldn't help but dwell on what was included in the birthday card.

Last month, I happened to be in the area, so I spent an overnight with my parents. In the kitchen, they keep a small drawer for random mailings I still receive here, over ten years after having moved out for good. It's kind of funny that a few schools still think I'm college shopping.

My mother also throws newspaper clippings in there that happen to relate to our recent topics of conversation. I happen to mention my summer herb garden, there's an herb clipping. I mention something about poker? Poker clipping. Any time they see my high school mentioned in the paper - in whatever context - clipping.

Last month, I found a random $50 gift card for the local mall. The story behind that card was that my father bought it for a service technician at his car dealership for being particularly helpful, but by the time he tried to give it to him, he had taken another job.

Since this card had little value outside of Rockland County, NY, I left it in the drawer and said that I would pick it up during Thanksgiving.

For some odd reason, immediately before opening my birthday card, I happened to open my mail drawer and ask where the gift card was.

Little did I know that I was already holding it. For the second time.

Regifting something that's already mine. I didn't think it was possible.

I'm assuming that for Christmas, I will be given my high school yearbook. Thanks, Dad.

Large hands

Front page of Boston.com features an article about a couple local siblings who set up a foundation called Cell Phones for Soldiers, raising almost $1 million and donating over 450,000 phone cards to overseas soldiers. Great cause, nice job kids.

All I could think about was this picture. The little boy's head looks photoshopped onto an adult's body. His hands seem way too large for his head and the rest of his body. Kind of like the statue of David in Florence.

Huh?

I'm here crunching some numbers at work, and one of my dreams from last night just popped back into my head. How odd.

In my past life, I was a radio DJ. Nothing zany, just an alternative rock jock back in the 90's, before the format exploded. I had the good fortune to be on the air during modern rock's renaissance - Nirvana, Smashing Pumpkins, Nine Inch Nails, Soundgarden, Pearl Jam - I played stuff from each of their first or second CD's when the were just released.

So, my dream last night involved Pearl Jam. For some reason, I was back on the air, and had to interview them for a gig they were playing in Providence. I was completely unprepared, and had not operated the equipment and console in years, so my studio engineering skills were terrible. I didn't know where the microphone pot was on the board, and I didn't know where their mike pots were. To top it off, I introduced them as Eddie Vedder and Mike McCready - only problem was that I was interviewing Eddie and Stone Gossard.

How could I have dreamt all of that?!