Copyright 2008, Susan DeLay
When I answered the phone, my friend had two words for me: Road Trip. Road trips can be planned in excruciating detail, including pre-determined pit stops in designated rest areas. (A McDonald’s always works because few road side rests offer upsized cola beverages and almost none offer decent fries). Road trips can last weeks, days, or sometimes hours. And the best ones are spontaneous. When you’re taking a road trip that leads to no where in particular, you don’t need a navigational system. In fact, the most you need is a suitcase full of cash (to pay for your unleaded) and a vehicle. Maybe a Rambler.
But an intentional road trip with a destination is different. In addition to your cash, you might need a cooler and a GPS.
The roadie in charge of transporting us on our trip has one of those navigational systems attached to the windshield—just so we wouldn’t get lost. It’s amazing that these devices can direct you not only to your final destination, but also to offer it in your voice of preference. If you’re from England, you can choose a proper gent’s voice with an accent worthy of an audience with the Queen, (although he sounded a lot like John Cleese). If you’re from Australia, then you choose a voice from Down Under, like Crocodile Dundee. If you’re from Kentucky, you choose, well, there’s no option for that one.
Navigation software allows the selection of a male or female voice. We decided on the voice of an American male with, clear, bold, and authoritative—one that we were confident could lead us to our adventure du jour and safely home again. At least that was the consensus. To me, he sounded like a game show host and I don’t know if I would trust a game show host to keep me on course. But I wasn’t driving. As everyone knows, the driver rules the radio, the rest stops, the temperature, and now, apparently, the navigation system voice selection.
Directed by satellite, automotive navigation systems usually rely on a GPS device (global positioning system) that pinpoints the user on the system’s map. From there, it’s a snap to provide directions. The easily lost love it. Fugitives don’t. Tip: if you’re fleeing from justice, from the mob, or from bad guys, don’t get into a vehicle with GPS. You can run, but you can’t hide.
As we started out on our trip, our navigator, who I nicknamed Wink because of the game show connection, advised us to proceed 30 feet and turn left. I’m pretty good at judging a mile’s distance when I’m driving, but feet? Yards? Unless I’m steering my car down the sidelines of a football field, I struggle. But Wink got us out of the neighborhood, past the corner gas station and onto the tollway, where we were instructed to have the correct change ready. That Wink guy is pretty helpful. I suspected he’d want a tip at the end of the day.
The only time Wink messed up was when we drove through a congested construction area. “In 30 feet, take a left. In 90 feet, take a right. At the next intersection take a left." Unfortunately, that had us steering directly into a road block with orange barrels and signs that said, “Actung! Halt! Do Not Enter! Trespassers will be Shot!” Or something like that. We made a U-turn, which frustrated Wink. When he realized we had not done what he said, he drove around the block only to try to persuade us to go through the roadblock again. What’s it to him if we take a bullet or two?
These navigation systems work—most of the time anyway. There was that one occasion when a woman followed the instructions and her car was hit by a train roaring down railroad tracks that weren’t on her system. That did not turn out well for anyone, but I can’t help but wonder how she missed the RR crossing signs. Did she have to crash through the barriers to hit the train?
Some people never learn obvious lessons.
Look both ways before crossing the street (or the tracks.)
Reduce speed at intersections.
And game show hosts are not to be trusted.
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