Jul 30, 2017 3 min read

I’m arguing with my GPS again.

Side note: Kids, a GPS is a device we used in the recent past before smartphones got so smart. It’s sort of a talking map. Like the one Dora the Explorer keeps in her talking backpack, but it doesn’t smile as often.

I am still using my Garmin GPS device on road trips. I haven’t figured out how to use my phone’s map app.

Additional side note: Here’s my problem with using the cellphone as an interactive map: a virtual push pin in my desired destination isn’t going to get me all the way there. First of all, I can’t always make the thing talk. I need to hear it, not stare at it. My eyes are supposed to be on the road. Second of all, why is my avatar a glowing red ball? I feel like a target for a fighter drone. I’m expecting an MQ-1 Predator to unleash its payload on my PT Cruiser.

But I digress, like I do.

I have a few issues with the device. We’re trying to work things out.

The problem I’m having is that it doesn’t want me to get out of the car until I get to my journey’s end.

I insisted, “You don’t need to recalculate … I’m just pulling into the gas station!”

The GPS isn’t smart. It’s smarter than me because I’ve been known to get lost in a grocery store (it was a really big grocery store). The GPS, however, doesn’t take into consideration that humans can’t drive for hours and hours without filling up or letting go.

The GPS brought back some painful memories of road trips with my family. Taking the Garmin is like traveling with my dad.

Actual conversation from my childhood:

“I have to go to the bathroom.”

“Can you hold it till Breezewood?”

“That’s two hours away.”

“Try not to think about it.”

The other problem I’m having with this infuriating device is that it wants to go the most direct route. Unfortunately, on my most recent trip, the most direct way would have taken me through Washington, D.C., in rush-hour traffic.

As we all know, Washington, D.C., is a nightmare. I’m not even talking politics! In the late afternoon, the Capital Beltway is a parking lot. Luckily, I know a shortcut. However, the GPS argued with me the entire time. It insisted we reroute to D.C. I had to unplug the thing for miles … until I got lost again.

Third side note: The GPS always lists the estimated arrival time, and I like racing against it.

The real problem is not with the GPS. It’s with me. I’ve been driving to the beach for years. I should know the way by now. I’ve made three trips to the ocean this summer! I guess I’m really angry at myself. I don’t trust my own instincts. Unfortunately, I can’t unplug myself.

Fourth, final and nearly unrelated side note: I ought to get one of those living wills.