FYI-My map picture would not download from my phone so just imagine it. lol
Thursday, August 29, 2019
Today I am grateful for the GPS on my phone. This little Ap has to be the greatest invention in modern times. Okay, that might be an exaggeration because there have been so many inventions, but it sure is right up there.
Since I do most of the driving, I have to program our intended location before I even start. Asking Himself to do it while we are on our way is an exercise in divorce. “This damned thing doesn’t acknowledge my crooked fingers!” he’ll scream at me as I shut his window so he can’t throw it to the curb, still attached to the umbilical, pink charging cord.
“Just touch the X if you want that to go away,” I try not to watch because I’m driving, but man, I can’t tell you the times I’ve pulled over to do a few simple adjustments so we can get where we’re going. I even got him a little stylus to keep in the car but now he can’t remember where he put it.
I should not complain because years ago, when he was the primary driver, he’d tell me to get the map out. Oh boy. Might as well tell me to multiply fractions or diagram a sentence. I am probably the worst map reader in the universe.
“We want to go northeast on highway whatzitz,” he’d say to my blank look.
I’d have the map unfolded all over the dashboard trying to find highway whatzitz. No way. It all looks like spaghetti to me.
“No look,” he would shout, tapping his finger on the open map. “It’s right there, over there, near the big dot which is the city we are going to.”
“We’re going there?” I’d feign stupidity, but was really not feigning. He can still remind me how far we are from rest areas, waysides, bridges, tunnels, you name it. The man has never forgotten where stuff is on road trips we’ve taken, no matter how long it’s been since we were there. I forget once I’ve passed it.
The thing that drove him completely over the edge was when I’d have to turn around with the map in order to get my bearings. Sent him right over the edge! But where I grew up Lake Michigan was east, Green Bay was north, Milwaukee was south and Plymouth was west. No gray area. No weird angles on the map. No northeast or southwest. Simple. So I’d have to turn myself and the map to not be confused. Sort of, because I was still confused.
Looking back on it, I think that’s probably why I started driving. He couldn’t read the map and drive at the same time and I was completely useless at reading a map. He was my GPS before it ever existed, except GPS doesn’t swear at me, “Turn right, turn right, TURN RIGHT! I said! What in the #$%@%*&+ are you doing?!”
It was a happy day for me when I learned how to maneuver (sort of) GPS on my phone, except it still doesn’t feel familiar to me. “At the nearest possible intersection, make a safe U-turn,” the car bitch says after I have gone off the grid.
As I continue to add my own ideas to her directions, she maintains her calm voice, telling me where to go and what to do. It just doesn’t feel normal. I need her to sound like a screaming husband with all of the colorful language involved and then end with. . .
“So you finally got here, you stupid idiot! How in the Hell did that happen since you haven’t followed my directions since you left your bloody driveway! Why in the billy-blue-hell did you even bother to put the directions in, you #$%@!? If you had driven off that bridge you would have blamed me! Do me a favor! Buy a MAP, bitch!”
I’m waiting for the company that records those thingies to call me so I can add a little “color” commentary. Even though I don’t always listen, I’m still grateful. I’d be lost without GPS. Wait, where am I? And I’m supposed to be where? Northeast what? Blchhhhh!