Skip to main content

GPS unplugged~


I had a little argument today. With my GPS. I was headed to visit my son in a city 60 miles north, an hour and fifteen minutes away. It took me longer than this.

I listened to my GPS. The GPS, a gift from my husband, is insurance that I'll arrive where I'm trying to go. Before the GPS, I arrived late, after trial and error, use of reverse gear, U-turns, and some swearing. And phone calls.

Driving, for me, is like playing a game of chess where only a few spaces at a time are revealed. Apparently I'm one of those people with poor ability to form a "mental map."

Call it what you will-- a weakness, a problem, a disability-- coupled with the fact that I confuse left and right, it makes for a round-about trip.

But the GPS has been great. Until today. There is something extremely stubborn about artificial intelligence. And to be fair, I can be stubborn too. We didn't see eye to eye.

In retrospect, I realize it was trying to take me by the most direct route as the crow flies. I was trying to take myself by my blurry mental map, albeit a longer way. When I left home and it said, "Go right." I said, "What?"

I got lost one other time when I didn't trust the GPS. My husband said, "That's why you have the thing. Next time listen to it." So, I did at first, but I grew anxious, and did what I haven't done since I got it. I called him.

"Bruce? This GPS is telling me to go the wrong way. I really don't trust it. At all."

He confirmed my mental map would do the trick, so I ignored Miss GPS. Ha!

But she wouldn't shut up. She kept patiently "recalculating" and entreating me to exit the highway and fly with her crow. Finally, out of insecurity, second-guessing myself, I did.

I could hear her breathe a sigh of relief; I got where I was going not much later than a normal person.

The visit with Jesse was half as long as the time it took me to get home.

I had told Bruce, "I'm going to follow its exact directions home." It sounds simple, but people who need these gadgets are the ones least able to utilize them properly.

It told me, "In point two miles, turn right."

Okay, but there is a right turn now, at point one mile, and I don't see one ahead. I better take this. What one tenth of a mile? It must mean this right turn.

"Recalculating," it said. Did I detect annoyance? These GPSs are such sticklers for accuracy.

Okay, my bad. But with the impatient Massachusetts drivers honking at me . . . there isn't much time to make a decision. We worked together, the GPS recalculating when her directions were so poor that I couldn't follow them. Geez, for a $200.00+ piece of technology . . .

It only took me three hours to get home. Don't ask! It was just a little disagreement, and I lost.
~~~~~

How it all began: Mother's Day GPS


The Resolution: Out of the forest

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

For Alice~ She's home!!!!!!!

What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson Sometimes it's all about knowing that loved ones and friends stand behind you, knowing that support is there on the down days, the worry days, the days when you feel off-center, out of sync, bedraggled emotionally, and in pain, but knowing all the while that you're not alone. You're not alone... Alice is an online friend--she lives in Hawaii-- who belongs to the writer's workshop that I do. We've only "met" online, but those who have online friendships know that they can be just as strong as those in-person relationships. Alice was hit by a car while walking, and is in the rehab phase of things. She's working to regain mobility after a broken pelvis, a broken arm, and a broken nose. It's scary to realize how, in the blink of an eye, life can lurch and our plans for a time are displaced by survival and healing. We&#

This retirement thing~

This retirement thing . . . it seems like it should be so easy, so effortless, so thrilling, to stop the daily grind. It is thrilling; at least I think it will be come September when I'm not following the school buses to work. But it's not easy. I had a plan book on my desk for 35 years, one I filled in weekly, scheduling new lessons at 45-minute intervals, meetings, parent conferences, and field trips. I knew what needed to be done and when. I got up at the same time everyday (5:45 a.m.), ate lunch at the same time (12:06 p.m.) and watched the kids pack their bags for home everyday at 2:15 p.m. I'm not sorry to give up that regimentation. But three weeks into the summer, I find myself making lists of things I need to do, and there is so much to do that I can't imagine how I managed while I was working eight hours on top of it all. There are the household chores, gardening, exercise (aren't retirees supposed to get fitter?), freelance writing, book reviewing, readin

Lesson from a Weed~

If dandelions could talk, here’s what I think they might say:  " Bloom where you’re planted, sink your roots deep. Smile in the sun, soak up the rain, and let the wind take you to new places." Dandelions are an early spring food for bees. They are often the first flower a young child picks for his mother and they provide a sweet moment for a mother to teach her child to make a wish and blow away the seeds. They speckle landscapes with lemon-colored glory. Common, and often disliked by those in favor of perfect lawns, we trample over them with hardly a thought. All this crossed my mind as I stood in this field of dandelions, most having gone to seed. I had an hour to myself at a retreat at a beautiful family farm on this day of unexpected sunshine and warmth. I was looking for a moment of stillness.   I’d watched two swans,   visited the alpacas,   chatted with the chickens, tried to coax a kitty closer...