Saturday, September 8, 2012

And You Thought The GPS Was For Following

It’s an old joke, men and their refusal to ask directions, their insistence that they know a “shortcut’ and the inevitable time lost in the process of saving time.  Then, along came the GPS.  I really thought the macho bravado of driving would change with an electronic toy doing the hard work.  How dumb am I?

Our GPS does not have a pleasantly accented male or female voice to guide us.  Our GPS has Lois, a no nonsense kinda gal.  She gives the direction and expects you to follow. . .I think Lois was once a third grade teacher.  She does not hide her disdain when announcing that she is “recalculating” in response to something my man, Moondoggy, has done.

It wasn’t until this summer while driving to the east coast that I realized the love/hate relationship that exists between Moondoggy and Lois.  All packed up, we hopped in the car and pulled out of the driveway when Moondoogy announces, ‘I think I’m going to skip her direction to take I-90 and take I-88 instead.”  Not even out of the driveway, he thinks Lois is wrong and she is pissed off. . .you can hear it in her voice.  Luckily there aren’t many options for getting to our stop for the night so she recalculated and the tension eased.  Lois knows how to pick her battles.

The next morning, Moondoggy announces with pride, “I think I’m going to follow her directions today and see where she takes us.  According to Lois, our drive time is going to be 8 hours with an arrival time of 5:15 p.m.” Me?  No comment.  And, here’s why.   Not twenty minutes later, Moondoggy says, “She is taking us through Breezewood which will take us around DC.  The traffic will be hell.  I’m not doing that.”  And with the intrepidity of Magellan and a slight smug sneer, Moondoggy deviates from Lois’ prescribed route.  We followed some very hilly country road that meandered through Pennsylvania, Maryland, West Virginia and Virginia.  I admit, it was beautiful and there was very little traffic, but the 2 hours we spent listening to an increasingly irritated Lois as she tried to guide us back onto the interstate was beyond livable.  But, does he turn it off?  No.  Why?  Because now he is WINNING and he is going to challenge her to find a way to our destination from this new path.  He’s on a roll and the game is on.

She wants us to be on I-95.  We are taking 17.  She wants us to get on I-64 in Richmond.  We stayed on 17.  She wants us to get off on Indian River Blvd.  We got off on Independence Rd.  The whole way Lois is recalculating and Moondoggy is snickering. . .he is winning.  

Finally, we took the now familiar route to the beach house. . . arriving in the driveway at exactly, you guessed it. . ..
5:15 p.m.   

So, who won?

On another note. . .

My next book has just gone to the editor.  I am aiming for a December release. The cover art is ready though.