Remember not so long ago when you used to get those big
fold-out maps at the gas station or AAA (that once opened would never fold back
the same way again) to plot out a road trip? Remember when the person driving
trusted (mostly) the person navigating to help them find their way as they
followed the map lines with their fingers, often shouting out "Turn
here!" at the last possible moment? Remember when you were the only voice (other than the occasional
backseat driver) giving direction?
Me neither.
My husband is semi-obsessed with the voice of the GPS. For
years I have gotten us from Point A to Point B with nary a detour (even after
he got into a heated highway battle with a 14-wheeler and the map flew out of
my hands through the open window only to be likely ripped to shreds somewhere
on I-95), and yet now he insists on having me hold my phone and let the voice
tell him what to do. What’s the fascination? I've been telling him what to do
for almost 30 years. Oh - right... back to the driving part.
We are now taking fairly frequent trips to Pennsylvania to
see OK and The Boy as much as possible, and as I've barely (hah) mentioned, to
bring YK to the college (three times now) that she hasn't even started
attending yet (four more weeks. Gulp.). Each time we take the trip we somehow
manage to go a different way. Often there is a side trip involved for family,
causing us to come at PA from different angles. I don't necessarily find that
the GPS on my Droid thinks "safety" as it chooses our route. No, it
seems to be geared more along the lines of "demolition derby."
I prefer to drive on many of the long distance trips as long
as it's in daylight. It keeps me from having to be the passenger in charge of
the Phone With The Directions when I would much rather be the one reading them
out loud. I have a nice voice, really, and my volume is easier to control - no
need to keep hitting the dang bar on the side of the phone to shut me up. I will just stop talking and
stare tearfully out the passenger side window if I get yelled at for leading us
astray. And the GPS doesn't always cooperate. Take this past weekend for
example.
We were visiting friends in Massachusetts... driving toward
Cape Cod... on a summer Saturday. Not bright. We left almost an hour later than
we had talked about (but not appropriately planned) and were hit with the
equivalent of whatever small country lays claim to the worst people in cars
(calling them drivers is too kind) on the planet. Suffice it to say I witnessed
vehicles swerving, stretching, bending and contorting around other
cars/trucks/toll booths in ways that would have made Gumby jealous.
Around what should
have been the almost halfway point we switched seats and I drove. This meant S
was on the passenger seat letting our GPS friend do all the talking. That is,
until he forgot during a long pause that it was still on. Just as I was about
to ask how far we were from a certain exit, the GPS spoke up. I lowered the
radio. Here's how it went.
S: What
are you doing?? (grabbing for radio dial to turn it up)
Me: I'm
trying to hear the GPS! (using control on steering wheel control to turn it down)
S: I'm
trying to hear what they were saying on the radio!
Me: What are you talking about??
That was the GPS!
S: Oh...
I thought they were making some kind of announcement...
Me: THE ANNOUNCEMENT WAS FROM THE GPS!!!!
How do you growl and laugh at the same time? Leave it to me.
But once we stopped laughing and I could focus and the GPS (knowing it was
dealing with idiots here) made its "announcement" again, the ride
went pretty smoothly- until a little while later when I listened to someone
in the car who said, "There's probably a rest stop soon," just as I
was leaning toward an exit with a few places where I could use the rest room.
From that point on it was downhill, and not in a nice coasting kind of way.
The route we had chosen seemed like it was right outside of
Boston. It was actually the closest you could get to the heart of Boston
without being on Route 1. It wasn't until maybe five minutes before we hit the
tunnels (I hate tunnels) that the time on the GPS suddenly jumped from our
destination being one hour and twenty minutes to two hours and something... I
don't remember - I was too busy frothing at the mouth and clutching my bladder.
We drove (slower than we could have walked) through the tunnel, after which we
sat (basically parked) in what started out as six lanes and seemed to get
swallowed into three. At some point during this interminable delay as I was
grumbling to myself about my stomach cramping, S oh so wisely announced,
"You don't do well in traffic."
EXCUSE ME????
Immediately aware that making this observation about a woman
who is now writhing in the seat behind the steering wheel and looking for a
Port-O-Let in the middle of I-93 was probably not the swiftest move, he clammed
up following my ranting response - which probably saved his life.
Eventually escaping from the congestion and seeing hope on
the horizon (in the form of exit signs) I chose to find a handy mart or some
such place right off the highway to use the facilities (by that time I had to
send S in to scout the place out to avoid an extremely embarrassing scene if I
couldn't head - no pun intended - straight to a rest room). I growled (not followed by a laugh this time) at Little
Miss GPS to SHUT UP when she tried to
reroute us.
We got close to where
we were going when we ran into another little snag. Our charming directional
unit had directed us to the name of the street with “Avenue” on the end and
refused to even acknowledge there was a similar street right around there
somewhere with “Lane” on the end. Desperate, we called our host who “walked” us
through directions to their house and literally stood at the end of their road
so we couldn’t miss them (honestly, I wouldn’t have put it past us to still
manage to go right by). We tripped out of our car an hour later than
anticipated, but there were welcoming hugs and the food was hot on the grill,
plus the dessert I brought had remained in tact. It was a great afternoon
meeting new folks and reminiscing with old friends. Ironically we were on the
road more than off that day due to the fact that we had to be home the same evening,
but it was truly worth it.
Words cannot express how relieved I was that everyone else
had also reached their destination and stayed put that evening, which meant no
traffic issues. It was smooth sailing back to Maine (with a couple of pit
stops, naturally).
I just hope it’s a long time before any electronic
device tries to give me directions. I just might reply with a direction or two of my own.
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