Friday, July 6, 2007
Out of the forest~
Read this first: GPS unplugged~
The rest of the story . . .
I'm bad, but not bad enough that I didn't see something wildly inappropriate about the route GPS sent me on yesterday.
Bruce called the Garmin GPS help line this morning.
There was no plot against me fomented by artificial intelligence gone amuck, a possibility I'd entertained as I zigzagged around roads that went nowhere; no reality show with a helicopter hovering above, filming how long the black Toyota truck would go in circles before the driver pulled off the road and cried.
Apparently there is a preference setting in the GPS that was set to "avoid highways and avoid U-turns." Well, duh! I was trying to go 60 miles with a GPS that was determined to keep me off highways. No wonder.
To my credit I'd rebelled at one point and got on Rt. 95. I called the GPS some bad names, and yanked its dendrites from the cigarette lighter, because she insisted on instructing me to get off at each exit.
You should hear how sweet she sounds, how hypnotic, so, and this is my insecurity at work, I plugged her back in after a while-- just in case-- and I listened to her, because I can be bad at directions. So can she, although, in her defense, she was doing what she was programmed to do. We just had a communication gap. We're still friends.
The lesson? I should trust my instincts. I'm not as bad as I think. Sometimes.