RETRO BLOG: A Trip Through Reiman Gardens

I love my wife, but sometimes she makes me do things that make absolutely no sense. Today was one of those days. We went to Ames to visit an old college friend of ours--Niki. I don't know why Niki was in town. I don't know when Niki's mom moved to Ames and gave us all a convenient reason to visit Ames when Niki is back. Either way, none of these things matter to this story, on this day. We were supposed to be in Ames for a hamburger cookout at 3:00pm. We like to go to Ames, so we left home early and arrived around 12:00pm. We ate lunch at the wonderful Hickory Park. Then...well...then what?

We had nothing to do. Normally when we are in Ames we'll hit up all the various t-shirt shops and spend more money than necessary on wonderful red and yellow, excuse me, cardinal and gold ensembles. That's how we do, if you know what I'm saying. You probably don't know what I'm saying because the phrase, "that's how we do," actually makes no sense if you break it down word for consecutive word. That said, we couldn't do how we do on this day because all the Iowa State stores were closed—since today is a Sunday in July (or August? I can't remember what month it is) and there weren't a whole lot of reasons for anything to be open seeing as school is not in session and, oh yeah, it was ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTEEN FRIGGIN DEGREES OUTSIDE. I've capitalized that last sentence to let you know it's important and will play into the story later. I’m trying to make reading easier for you novices.

So, we're in Ames today. It's very hot today. We have nothing to do until 3:00pm today. I asked Kelsey, "What should we today?" She said, "I don't know Jay." We started to drive around. We drove by the football stadium, so we could remember all those times our mighty Cyclones built other teams’ confidences. Just past the football stadium is Iowa State University's very own Reiman Gardens. It's a renowned garden place of some sort. I don't know what that means. I never went there in college. I was too busy doing almost any other possible thing I could be doing. But I've changed. I do things now. When people say, "Jay, you should try this garlic dip," I totally try the garlic dip. Sometimes I even like the garlic dip. When someone tells me, "You should watch Glee, a musical about people in high school," I say, "I will," and I love it. I love it so much.

Today, Kelsey said, "We should go to Reiman Gardens." I said, "Okay, but isn't it a bit hot to go to a garden?" That’s not me not trying new things. That’s me being 100% reasonable. Here's what Kelsey's answer should have been: "Lord YES. It's too hot to do anything. Let's just go sit in a Starbucks and drink frappucinos. I’m so glad I married somewhat so smart, so kind, so hung." Unfortunately, here's what Kelsey answered: "We should be okay. I think most of it is inside."

No. Reiman Gardens is not mostly inside. In fact, it is probably 98% outside. The desk we paid our admission at was inside. That was nice. The bathrooms were inside. The gift shop was inside. Great. Grand. Everything else? All the flowers? All the whatever else they have in gardens? All of this: outside. Not only was all of this outside, it was spread out over a large amount of land. The place is designed for people to take leisurely strolls through wide areas of flowers...the place was not designed for people to go on one hour gnome searches in 110 degree high-humidity.

What's that? A gnome search? Yes. A gnome search. It might have been a hallucination. It might have been real. There’s no way of knowing really. Somehow we ended up searching for fifty different gnomes that were spread out throughout the garden. Only some of the gnomes talked. Most of them were just cement gnomes painted by local Ames area businesses. It was "The Summer of Gnomes," or something totally logical like that. Thus the Garden put several gnomes out everywhere for kids to find when their parents dragged them to a garden by saying, "You'll love this place for some reason we're making up right now. JUST LEAVE OUR HOUSE." Kids, if you're reading this: when your parents avoid eye contact and tell you that you'll love a garden--THEY ARE LYING.

Gardens are not inside. Gardens are outside.

At some point, after I sweated through my undershirt, my shorts, and my polo, Kelsey and I decided we'd find all the gnomes. We don't know why we decided this. We should have decided to leave and go to the previously mentioned Starbucks (which by the way is like a block from where I lived in college. All I wanted in college was a Starbucks near my apartment. They built one the year after I left. Thanks World. Sincerely, Me) and order the previously mentioned frappucinos (or iced coffees—also delicious). Neither one of us had any real fun on the gnome search. If we missed a gnome, we'd say, "Damn it, now we have to walk all the way back to section whatever." We'd then walk to the gnome. We'd take the gnome's picture. Now we have a lot of pictures of gnomes.

What the hell are we going to do with pictures of fifty gnomes?

Nothing. We will do nothing with these pictures. The day was not for naught however. There is something fun about sharing in a misery that could just as easily been avoided. We weren't having fun, but we weren't not having fun. But we created our own situation. It wasn’t like we were stuck in an airport, waiting for a flight that would never leave. We controlled our destinies. We just didn’t do a very good job with them. After staying just long enough to ensure we didn’t have enough time to dry off before reminiscing with our college folk, we left. We decided it was probably best to go to Starbucks and order frappucinos.