I have no idea if this is still part of school but when I was a kid, on the
yearly standard aptitude test, they always included topography/map reading
somewhere in the math section. I was very proud of the fact that I typically
aced this section. I learned how to read maps at a very young age. My family
took a lot of road trips and my sister and I reading the maps as we went was a
long standing tradition. I could read the hell out of a map. Still can.
However, thanks to mapquest, google maps, various car built-in GPS systems and
map applications available on every smart phone that skill is now completely and
utterly useless. It's a shame, really. It had been one of those things that
separated the men from the half-men and, of course, any and all men from every
single woman. I'm sure if option D on the topography quiz had been "stop and
ask someone for directions" everybody could have nailed it. But that was the
point. Wanna get somewhere you've never been, learn to read a map. Now any
idiot can get to go from point A to point B without even the least amount of
skill or innate sense of direction.
In 2002 I drove across country with a handful of maps. I had a cell phone that was not text message compatible, no access to the internet and certainly no GPS system at my disposal. I spent two months bouncing around the country. Never once got lost. Granted, it helped that I had no fixed schedule, no hotel reservations to miss or deadlines to make. If I was "delayed" or "off the beaten path" it was because I chose to do so, certainly not because I had somehow gotten turned around. I was simply exploring. Since I was travelling alone there was no one to tell me any different.
I did not have the same remarkably flexible non-schedule available to me on my most recent cross-country drive. SugarDust and I decided to procure a GPS device in an effort to make the best possible time between stops. When we left New Jersey with my Aunt and Uncle's borrowed Magellan GPS system now at our disposal, those scenic detours of the past were now accompanied by a nagging computerized voice telling me to make a u-turn or go back in the other direction. It took a little figuring but eventually I found the mute function and shut the damn thing up. Which, by the way, was the voice of some broad with a British accent. As my Lovely Girlfriend already knows I don't ever listen when being told how or where to drive. Having the Queen of England correct me wasn't going to change that. It was quickly decided that the Magellan would be strictly a back-up system of navigation. Partially because I am always distrustful of technology and partially because I refuse to rely on said technology to determine my every move. I am convinced that no good can come from mindlessly following the dictates of a four inch computer screen.
My conviction was confirmed when SugarDust and I landed in Oklahoma City. We paid a visit to our buddy Downtown and his wife The Legal Guardian. Downtown is one of the smartest guys I know. On top of that he's as tough as a two dollar steak and a real man's man through and through. This is not someone that should ever require the assistance of directions. At least that was what I thought before we hopped into his Jeep for a trip into Bricktown. Downtown uses a GPS. And, just as I suspected would and could happen when you stop relying on your God-given innate sense of direction and the second grade reading level required to read signage, could not find his way into the downtown area of a city he's lived and worked in for almost two years. That's right, Downtown couldn't find downtown. It was a hard thing to witness. My greatest fears come true. A man crippled by a machine. I knew right then that the Magellan would be spending the remainder of our trip face down on the dash. Only to be broken out under the most gruesome of conditions. In an effort to make myself feel better and to help Downtown re-capture some of his lost manhood I insisted that we spend several hours visiting The Great American Banjo Museum. Seriously. It was awesome. So much so that it deserves its own post.
In 2002 I drove across country with a handful of maps. I had a cell phone that was not text message compatible, no access to the internet and certainly no GPS system at my disposal. I spent two months bouncing around the country. Never once got lost. Granted, it helped that I had no fixed schedule, no hotel reservations to miss or deadlines to make. If I was "delayed" or "off the beaten path" it was because I chose to do so, certainly not because I had somehow gotten turned around. I was simply exploring. Since I was travelling alone there was no one to tell me any different.
I did not have the same remarkably flexible non-schedule available to me on my most recent cross-country drive. SugarDust and I decided to procure a GPS device in an effort to make the best possible time between stops. When we left New Jersey with my Aunt and Uncle's borrowed Magellan GPS system now at our disposal, those scenic detours of the past were now accompanied by a nagging computerized voice telling me to make a u-turn or go back in the other direction. It took a little figuring but eventually I found the mute function and shut the damn thing up. Which, by the way, was the voice of some broad with a British accent. As my Lovely Girlfriend already knows I don't ever listen when being told how or where to drive. Having the Queen of England correct me wasn't going to change that. It was quickly decided that the Magellan would be strictly a back-up system of navigation. Partially because I am always distrustful of technology and partially because I refuse to rely on said technology to determine my every move. I am convinced that no good can come from mindlessly following the dictates of a four inch computer screen.
My conviction was confirmed when SugarDust and I landed in Oklahoma City. We paid a visit to our buddy Downtown and his wife The Legal Guardian. Downtown is one of the smartest guys I know. On top of that he's as tough as a two dollar steak and a real man's man through and through. This is not someone that should ever require the assistance of directions. At least that was what I thought before we hopped into his Jeep for a trip into Bricktown. Downtown uses a GPS. And, just as I suspected would and could happen when you stop relying on your God-given innate sense of direction and the second grade reading level required to read signage, could not find his way into the downtown area of a city he's lived and worked in for almost two years. That's right, Downtown couldn't find downtown. It was a hard thing to witness. My greatest fears come true. A man crippled by a machine. I knew right then that the Magellan would be spending the remainder of our trip face down on the dash. Only to be broken out under the most gruesome of conditions. In an effort to make myself feel better and to help Downtown re-capture some of his lost manhood I insisted that we spend several hours visiting The Great American Banjo Museum. Seriously. It was awesome. So much so that it deserves its own post.
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