Let me confess something. I’m not a square-jawed six-pack-abs hulk who wears his metrosexuality on his sleeve flaunting Prada and Calvin Klein. I’m just your boy next door who loves his sports, beer and his share of action movies and skin flicks. And yes, there are places guys like me dread to tread. Cinema halls to watch a Karan Johar movie or art galleries to admire French impressionist paintings, for instance. Flower show was on that list too, but got scratched that fateful Saturday when I attended my first (and pray last!) orchid show. Here’s how it went down…
Last week while chatting with my friend's wife, she casually mentioned that they both were contemplating growing plants and flowers at home. Of course this was the same friend, who after marriage decided to turn over a new leaf and dedicate entire Sundays to mastering the nuances of chicken and shrimp cooking. So I didn’t exactly fall off the chair in shock imagining my friend tending to roses in the garden.
“What kind of flowers? Like roses and lilies?” I typed.
“No. Actually Orchids.”
“Orchids? Aren’t they like endangered or something?” I asked, still amused and puzzled at my friend’s sudden interest in flora.
“No. They are exotic and extremely beautiful” she clarified.
Now I am no plants-and-flowers guy but roses were the closest I could get to. Orchids? Never would have thought of that in a million years. I agreed to checkout the orchids fair in Santa Barbara, provided she draw up a detailed list of what orchids to buy and how many of those she wanted. My plan? Produce the list to some vendor and smooth talk him/her into filling my bag. If all went well Operation Orchids would be over hassle-free in less than fifteen minutes. As is the wont I was to be proved wrong. Again!
Finding the campgrounds after driving around 100 miles from Los Angeles wasn’t difficult, since Highway 101 was clogged with SUVs, campers and BMW convertibles atleast a mile before the exit. Snaking through traffic I parked my car almost a mile away and lumbered to the entrance to be greeted by a “Orchids Gone Wild!” banner. Not exactly an A for originality, but it did raise my hopes a wee bit of having some fun inside. A cacophony of voices hit me as I stepped in. Boisterous kids, disinterested husbands with a I-don’t-know-what-I’m-doing-here look on their faces, and seventy-somethings intently checking out every single orchid on display. People representing every possible demographic seemed to have a date with the orchids that day. And enjoying it too! I realized much to my dismay that I was probably the only unsupervised soul present.
One of my tried and tested theories is that any such congregation entails free food of some sort. Could be oatmeal raisin cookies, apple cider, pizza or even home brewed beer for that matter. My ultra sensitive food locating antenna launched itself into high gear and sure enough picked up a sizeable crowd thronging around a booth. Making a beeline for the center of the table and without looking down I said,
“Yeah… I’ll have a spoon of that.”, trying to sound casual.
“But.. this is orchid food”, a cute Asian girl stammered.
“Oh! I know that. Just joking.” I replied with an embarrassingly hollow laugh and did a quick about turn. Good Lord! I could feel atleast five pairs of eyes staring strangely at me.
Minor setback notwithstanding I decided to give my theory one more shot. I spotted another crowd at the end of the aisle. This time around it was mostly middle-aged couples, which perked me up a little bit. I mean guys don’t mill around orchid food or fertilizers unless there’s some freebies or some hottie lecturing. Right? With a little bit of shoving and some “excuse-me’s” I peered down slowly.
I just couldn’t believe my eyes! There were atleast ten people around me transfixed to an orchid barely a fist high and held spellbound by a heavy-set man who looked like a washed-up Indiana Jones. Popping out cameras, taking notes, posing for pictures alongside it, everyone except me were going gaga over it. All this for a prima donna that wasn’t expected to blossom for the next one and half years. Oh wait! She comes home for a whopping $250! Holy Mother! That’s two Lakers games nipped in the bud!
I’m never short of life truths and here’s one more. Second to grapes (and that includes wine) orchids are probably the next biggest thing to have hoodwinked humanity. Call me crazy or whatever, but forking up a fortune for a plant that wasn’t going to blossom until end of Fall 2010 is downright ridiculous. Me? I’d rather buy an inexpensive plant from Walmart and pawn it off as an “exotic orchid” on my unsuspecting friends.
Whew! Fifteen minutes gone by. No free food. No love for orchids either. Gathering myself I proceeded to a less active booth manned by a old man with a I’ve-seen-it-all-for-the-orchids look on his face. I sincerely started my monologue explaining my illiteracy, why I was here and what I wanted. He took all of two minutes to process that, which made me wonder if I should have spoken slowly instead of rattling off like a shotgun. He calmly picked up a plant (thankfully bigger than my earlier object of hatred), explained that’s what I was looking for, also caring to throw some light on its maintenance. And redirecting me too for the next item on my list. Cattleyas.
I liked these Cattleyas immediately. For starters, they looked like real plants, had more attractive flowers and showed less attitude than their much shorter cousins. Plus, the over eager salesgirl helped me pick one in a jiffy. With a happy sigh I ticked off the items in my list. Dendrobiums and Cattleyas were now in the bag.
Orders executed to a T, a thought suddenly struck me. Why don’t I call up Miss M (my girlfriend-turned-ex, in case anyone's curious) and ask her if she wanted one of those? Judging by what I had seen it looked as if orchids were on women’s top ten list after all. I left her a message and she called back in a few minutes.
“Oh my God! What on earth are you doing at a orchid show? That’s the last place I imagined you to be.” she said, laughing hard.
“I know! I am doing it for my friend and for the record am sleepwalking through this.” I replied, trying hard to maintain a straight face.
Turned out M was fascinated by orchids. “Surprise me”, was all she said when I asked her what she wanted. Groan! Another of those grocery lists would have made my life easier. “Once bitten twice shy”, they say. This time around I decided to dispense with all tomfoolery, went back and straight away picked one which promised to blossom into vivid colored flowers in less than three weeks. “That’s one less thing for her to stress about” I mused.
Operation Orchids was finally over and I couldn’t help but pat myself on my back for a job well done. Admittedly it wasn’t as bad as I feared, though with a better knowledge of biology and an infinitely higher aesthetic sense and patience I could have gushed afterwards that I was in paradise.
Lakersobium Champsanum ‘Kobe’ 2010
In case you’re still wondering, that’s an orchid that’ll bloom in June 2010 when God a.k.a Kobe Bryant wins another NBA championship for the Lakers.
Last week while chatting with my friend's wife, she casually mentioned that they both were contemplating growing plants and flowers at home. Of course this was the same friend, who after marriage decided to turn over a new leaf and dedicate entire Sundays to mastering the nuances of chicken and shrimp cooking. So I didn’t exactly fall off the chair in shock imagining my friend tending to roses in the garden.
“What kind of flowers? Like roses and lilies?” I typed.
“No. Actually Orchids.”
“Orchids? Aren’t they like endangered or something?” I asked, still amused and puzzled at my friend’s sudden interest in flora.
“No. They are exotic and extremely beautiful” she clarified.
Now I am no plants-and-flowers guy but roses were the closest I could get to. Orchids? Never would have thought of that in a million years. I agreed to checkout the orchids fair in Santa Barbara, provided she draw up a detailed list of what orchids to buy and how many of those she wanted. My plan? Produce the list to some vendor and smooth talk him/her into filling my bag. If all went well Operation Orchids would be over hassle-free in less than fifteen minutes. As is the wont I was to be proved wrong. Again!
Finding the campgrounds after driving around 100 miles from Los Angeles wasn’t difficult, since Highway 101 was clogged with SUVs, campers and BMW convertibles atleast a mile before the exit. Snaking through traffic I parked my car almost a mile away and lumbered to the entrance to be greeted by a “Orchids Gone Wild!” banner. Not exactly an A for originality, but it did raise my hopes a wee bit of having some fun inside. A cacophony of voices hit me as I stepped in. Boisterous kids, disinterested husbands with a I-don’t-know-what-I’m-doing-here look on their faces, and seventy-somethings intently checking out every single orchid on display. People representing every possible demographic seemed to have a date with the orchids that day. And enjoying it too! I realized much to my dismay that I was probably the only unsupervised soul present.
One of my tried and tested theories is that any such congregation entails free food of some sort. Could be oatmeal raisin cookies, apple cider, pizza or even home brewed beer for that matter. My ultra sensitive food locating antenna launched itself into high gear and sure enough picked up a sizeable crowd thronging around a booth. Making a beeline for the center of the table and without looking down I said,
“Yeah… I’ll have a spoon of that.”, trying to sound casual.
“But.. this is orchid food”, a cute Asian girl stammered.
“Oh! I know that. Just joking.” I replied with an embarrassingly hollow laugh and did a quick about turn. Good Lord! I could feel atleast five pairs of eyes staring strangely at me.
Minor setback notwithstanding I decided to give my theory one more shot. I spotted another crowd at the end of the aisle. This time around it was mostly middle-aged couples, which perked me up a little bit. I mean guys don’t mill around orchid food or fertilizers unless there’s some freebies or some hottie lecturing. Right? With a little bit of shoving and some “excuse-me’s” I peered down slowly.
I just couldn’t believe my eyes! There were atleast ten people around me transfixed to an orchid barely a fist high and held spellbound by a heavy-set man who looked like a washed-up Indiana Jones. Popping out cameras, taking notes, posing for pictures alongside it, everyone except me were going gaga over it. All this for a prima donna that wasn’t expected to blossom for the next one and half years. Oh wait! She comes home for a whopping $250! Holy Mother! That’s two Lakers games nipped in the bud!
I’m never short of life truths and here’s one more. Second to grapes (and that includes wine) orchids are probably the next biggest thing to have hoodwinked humanity. Call me crazy or whatever, but forking up a fortune for a plant that wasn’t going to blossom until end of Fall 2010 is downright ridiculous. Me? I’d rather buy an inexpensive plant from Walmart and pawn it off as an “exotic orchid” on my unsuspecting friends.
Whew! Fifteen minutes gone by. No free food. No love for orchids either. Gathering myself I proceeded to a less active booth manned by a old man with a I’ve-seen-it-all-for-the-orchids look on his face. I sincerely started my monologue explaining my illiteracy, why I was here and what I wanted. He took all of two minutes to process that, which made me wonder if I should have spoken slowly instead of rattling off like a shotgun. He calmly picked up a plant (thankfully bigger than my earlier object of hatred), explained that’s what I was looking for, also caring to throw some light on its maintenance. And redirecting me too for the next item on my list. Cattleyas.
I liked these Cattleyas immediately. For starters, they looked like real plants, had more attractive flowers and showed less attitude than their much shorter cousins. Plus, the over eager salesgirl helped me pick one in a jiffy. With a happy sigh I ticked off the items in my list. Dendrobiums and Cattleyas were now in the bag.
Orders executed to a T, a thought suddenly struck me. Why don’t I call up Miss M (my girlfriend-turned-ex, in case anyone's curious) and ask her if she wanted one of those? Judging by what I had seen it looked as if orchids were on women’s top ten list after all. I left her a message and she called back in a few minutes.
“Oh my God! What on earth are you doing at a orchid show? That’s the last place I imagined you to be.” she said, laughing hard.
“I know! I am doing it for my friend and for the record am sleepwalking through this.” I replied, trying hard to maintain a straight face.
Turned out M was fascinated by orchids. “Surprise me”, was all she said when I asked her what she wanted. Groan! Another of those grocery lists would have made my life easier. “Once bitten twice shy”, they say. This time around I decided to dispense with all tomfoolery, went back and straight away picked one which promised to blossom into vivid colored flowers in less than three weeks. “That’s one less thing for her to stress about” I mused.
Operation Orchids was finally over and I couldn’t help but pat myself on my back for a job well done. Admittedly it wasn’t as bad as I feared, though with a better knowledge of biology and an infinitely higher aesthetic sense and patience I could have gushed afterwards that I was in paradise.
Lakersobium Champsanum ‘Kobe’ 2010
In case you’re still wondering, that’s an orchid that’ll bloom in June 2010 when God a.k.a Kobe Bryant wins another NBA championship for the Lakers.
Peace out y'all!
That was a hilarious account! Yeah, an orchid show is the last place I would look for you. Especially on a Sunday.
ReplyDelete"She comes home for a whopping $250! Holy Mother! That’s two Lakers games nipped in the bud!" - LOL
"I’d rather buy an inexpensive plant from Walmart and pawn it off as an “exotic orchid” on my unsuspecting friends." - LOL again! I'm sure I'm one of those unsuspecting friends.
I'm reminded of the plant (not an orchid) that came as a gift while we were in South Terrace that ended up as, er, roach food.