TECHNOLOGY TAKES ME HOME

I like being able to tell my GPS, “go home,” assured that it always knows where I am and how to take me to the place I most like to be.

On the other hand, it doesn’t see the point of driving through Westwood when the azaleas are in bloom, or taking Franklin Street—traffic, construction, jaywalkers, and all—just because I like to. GPS is happy with the same few routes as I make my usual passages.

It doesn’t realize that I can’t drive through the building I’m parked in front of to resume its indicated route. That’s when, try as I do not to anthropomorphize it, I can’t help but murmur, poor thing. I turn it off to ease the burden on its recalculating little brain.

Then again, sometimes it gives me a great surprise. I visit a friend who lives almost due west of me, some miles away. To go to her house, I drive south, then west, then north. Not efficient, but that’s what Mapquest told me to do.

I recently went to visit her for the first time since getting my GPS. As I left, I wondered if it might know something Mapquest and I don’t about rural county roads, so I turned it on and told it to “go home.”

The adventure began. Instead of turning left out of her drive, it told me to turn right. I was happy to oblige. By the time we turned into my driveway, it had taken me across Chicken Bridge, through beautiful dairyland and farms, on two dirt roads, past lovely old houses and cabins I would never have found on my own.

So, sweet GPS, we’ll put up with each other and anytime you want to take the back roads, I’m in. Let’s go.