In March, I drove north to visit my daughter.
The night before I left, I called her. “What’s your address again, sweetie?”
She sighed. The last two times, she had to come find me so I could follow her home. Embarassing!
“I’m going to run it through Mapquest this time,” I said. “That way, I have it all written down just in case I get lost.”
Well, when I put the address into Mapquest, I wasn’t paying close enough attention, I suppose. I found out the hard way that there are two different residences with identical street and house numbers. One just happens to be on the NW side and the other on the NE side. I, of course, went to the wrong side and . . . you guessed it. My daughter had to come get me again.
So, before I made the trip in June, I bought a GPS. I named it Ammee(Short for American English). Even Ammee got frustrated with my lack of direction (I get lost in a four bedroom house). A few times my wrong turns seemed to frustrate her. Then there was the time she said, “turn left, Turn Left, Turn LEFT, TURN LEFT!” She wanted to call me an ugly name, I could tell by the tone of her voice. But she held back. I’m surprised they don’t equip them with four-letter words for such occasions.
Anyway, Ammee got me to my daughter’s house with little or no trouble. And, she was still speaking to me when we started home.
My sense of direction is so bad. I’ve always worried when I had to go somewhere for the first time.
Not any more.
Not with Ammee riding shotgun.
If Bridget could call me stupid, I’m sure she would. But I always can throw San Fransisco in her face. Winding us through those tiny streets of China Town when the hotel was a straight shot up the hill. Now who’s stupid.
No kidding. But be careful what you say within Bridget’s hearing distance.
Mines called Jill, a Garmin 660. Jill lost her voice after a month of damp, foggy coastline. It has never returned. Jill is now a seeing eye dog for a deaf man.
I discovered, as someone who has endured Jills ‘assistance’ over 50,000 miles, that it pays to have SOME idea where you are going. Not once has Jill picked the correct off ramp when I drive from Grants Pass to Medford. She has a thing for Central Point and the roads from there to Medford. And yes, I have played with the settings.
My currently programmed vehicle is a LARGE truck, in the hope she’ll pick better, larger roads. NO. I’ve had to back out of places a bicycle couldn’t turn around in. I even downloaded all the latest software and maps. WORSE. I wish I could roll back the software to the old version.
Still, for the solo driver, easier than driving with a map in your lap.
I wonder if having no sense of direction is hereditary. No one ever told me of the warning signs of NO-SOD. My children use to try to help even when they weren’t old enough to drive. They would gently remind me of turns at first. The farther the trip, the louder the directions. When their voices reached the yelling volume, I knew we had almost reached our destination. My three sons are all 18 years of age and older. They still try to give directions when riding with me. But you know what ?
Now I just tell them where to go.