GPS
The Source
I’ve found that if you ask to borrow something often enough you’ll eventually receive it for Christmas. At least it worked for me. After borrowing my brother’s GPS system enough times he finally gave me one for the holidays. It’s not one of the super-fancy things that come with top-of-the-line cars… those engaging gadgets that not only tell you when to turn but carry on a colorful play-by-play commentary. Some give road conditions and so when you live in Illinois it’s talking to you all the time. (A tour guide in Springfield once hold up an orange road construction cone and told his tour group, “And this is the state tree of Illinois!”) My wildest GPS-led ride came when I was heading for God-knows-where south of here and the thing took me around the Litchfield square three times. I had plenty of time so I decided to just ride this bronco ‘til she gave out. First time around.. “Turn left! Turn left! Turn left!” Even my poor geometric skills tell me that if you make three left turns around a square object then you end up on the same place. But I had enough gas so finally on the fourth time ‘round the courthouse the machine let me loose and I started careening down back roads not fully explored since Lewis and Clark. Okay, I’ll admit that coming out of Chicago. (Pronounced ChiCA-GO by the GPS lady) headed for Ar-ENZ-ville, the thing got me home. Every road sign was completely covered with snow and ice and were it not for the British lady inside my black box I’d still be wandering around Skokie. Of course the tragic downside of the GPS system is that my generation is the last to be able to read a road map. Many teens now have a simplified GPS on their cell phones, but recently I was headed past Decatur to a place that wasn’t on their cell phones’ maps, so I tossed my State of Illinois road map into the back seat and said, “Here! Find out where we’re going!” The sixteen-year-old male voice in the back seat said, “What’s this?” “A road map.” “For what?” “For finding your way.” (a long pause, then) “How do you use it?” Dear Lord. Another basic skill completely lost due to technology. “Up is north. Find Decatur.” “Where do I look?” “It’ll be the place that’s named ‘Decatur.’” “Oh.” (another pause, then) “There’s lots of towns on this map.” “Yeah. Pretty much all of them.” My friend Brock and I were headed to play a gig in a little church south of Jacksonville. It was one of those country churches that years ago were plopped down in the middle of a cornfield with the hopes that some day a town might spring up around it. That didn’t happen. The thing is still in the middle of uninhabited farmland. But, like everything in life, the church did have an address. I poked it in and after 30 minutes criss-crossing some of Morgan’s county’s more dangerous terrain the talking box finally announced that we had arrived. I stopped the car. I looked around. It was still light enough to see the head of a Hereford cow sticking its curious nose over a fence at me. GPS systems can’t always find Baptist churches, but they’re hell on those cows. Without doubt the funniest GPS story I’ve ever heard: Arenzville has a resident wild man named Gary Beard. Gary can hold forth on nearly any subject until his audience is in tears of laughter. He told me that his daughter insisted he take her GPS system on a trip to southern Illinois. Gary’s a good old boy who after a rough stint in Viet Nam isn’t cowed by anything, and it doesn’t bother him to get lost. His natural instincts usually sniff out the proper direction given enough time and a full tank of gas. But, to appease his daughter he took the GPS system along on the trip. He said, “I came up to this road and the lady in the box said ‘Turn Right.’ I told my daughter that we always turn left here.” “Dad, this will be the best way. Go ahead and turn right.” He said, “So I turned right, knowin’ that I should turn left. The place I was goin’ was on the outskirts of town but this machine took us right down town. My daughter said, ‘Don’t worry, it knows where it’s going.’” They followed the GPS lady’s directions until the electronic box announced, “You have arrived at your final destination!” Gary said, “I looked up and we were right at the gate of a damned cemetery! I guess those things are right after all!”