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Dashboard driver doesn't like inefficient snack breaks Saturday, Apr 26, 2008 By Micki Bare Despite ridiculously high gas prices, Mom and I hit the road yet again. We clocked 1500 miles in three days. It would have been convenient if everyone lived where they did the last time we visited. However, things change and people move, leaving us with the task of figuring out how to get there. In order to actually scrape together enough time for the trip itself, we must tie up loose ends at work and home. One also needs time to pack. These days, I pack at the very last minute - like when I get to the car, begin to pull out, then stop and run back in for clothes and a toothbrush. In the good old days, we had time to map out a route, an alternate route and an emergency back-up route. We'd highlight the routes in different colors. We'd research the weather outlook and identify potential rest stops along the way. We'd check the tires, change the wiper blades, change the oil, top off fluids and fill up the gas tank. We would visit the bank for a wad of travel cash. We would plan out how to pack the trunk, using every bit of spare room while ensuring even weight distribution for optimal gas mileage. When Mom and I took off for our most recent trip, I had my cell phone should the car break down and my debit card should I need to make a purchase. As for directions, Mom had it covered. She plopped her GPS system onto my dashboard and plugged it into my auxiliary outlet. By the time I ran back into the house, grabbed a few clothes and my toothbrush and returned, Mom had the thing programmed and we were on our way. No atlas. No directions printed from a computer program or the Internet. Just a screen with what appeared to be my favorite arcade game from 1984 - Pole Position. At first, using Mom's GPS seemed fun. As long as I kept my minivan on the purple line, we were headed in the right direction. However, when I merged onto Interstate 81, I expected the GPS, who we affectionately called Katy after a raspy Katherine Hepburn, to tell us we were good for another 500 miles. Instead, Katy said, "Continue for 31 miles, then turn left." "I wonder if Katy has a different plan," I questioned. I would have looked at my mother with a concerned, quizzical face, but I was watching the road, the traffic and Katy. I packed as much concern and quizzical-ness into my voice as could be mustered while fantasizing about a perfect Pole Position score. "I don't know. Your dad and I just do what she says ... well, unless your dad knows another way." "Knows another way? Why does Dad use Katy if he knows another way?" "I think he likes to frustrate Katy. He thinks it is fun to mess with her." Thirty-one miles later, Interstate 64 merged with Interstate 81. We had to stay to the left to remain on Interstate 81. Not a hard thing to navigate, but I deduced that Katy was simply trying to be thorough. This would come in handy in Pennsylvania when we approached the one big interstate merge that can send you off in the wrong direction if you're not paying attention. Other than that one area in Pennsylvania, Katy's incessant directions for staying on the highway began crawling up and down my nerves. I could see why my dad found joy in annoying her back. Then there was the arrival time. Katy goes through the trouble of calculating when you will arrive, should you drive straight through without ever stopping to fill up the gas tank, empty your bladder or grab a bite to eat. Until the last leg of the trip, it seems a waste of time to tell me when I would have arrived had I simply driven straight through and maintained the speed limit. Feeling the need to annoy Katy as much as she annoyed me, I decided to exit the interstate and take a gas and snack break. As soon as I veered from the purple path, Katy began "recalculating." She then instructed me to turn back. When I ignored her stern directions, she recalculated again and again. Soon she became so frustrated, she suggested that I simply make a U-turn - in the middle of a six lane road while we were traveling in the right lane. When we arrived at my uncle's house, I was more than happy to power down Katy and get on with my life. Next time Mom and I head for the open road, I believe I will make time to download a paper map. I believe I prefer directions that don't argue when I need to veer off the path for a quick restroom break. ------- Micki Bare is a columnist for the Arkansas News Bureau and the Courier-Tribune in Asheboro, N.C., and author of the book, "Relative Expressions." She lives in Asheboro with her husband and three children. Her e-mail address is mickibare@inspiredscribe.com. |
