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Fractured Fallacies of a Finagling Fact Finder and Obfuscating Humorist

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A Woman's Guide To The Universe, Internet Stuff

I’m In Love With The GPS Lady: When We Run Away Together, She’ll Know Where To Go

I’m in love with the GPS Lady. After years of being left behind in the phone Rappture that my friends kept haranguing me to get on board with, I finally got the smarty pants phone several months ago. She (I’m assuming it’s a she) and I have been happy, once I got the hang of answering a phone call. When I’d mastered that skill, I moved on to putting Scrabble and Kindle books on my phone.

I prefer the Kindle books, because the phone cheats at Scrabble. I know she does.

Now that I use my phone for things other than a paperweight, no longer can I do  the curmudgeonly “I just want to make a phone call!”  yell to prove my superiority over the younger generation and how they won’t be able to tie their shoes soon.

I was right, they don’t tie their shoes or wear belts. In my day, we had to wear ten belts at once. To quote my dad, “I had to walk ten miles to school in the snow, uphill both ways.”  His curmudgeonly leadership keeps me focused on being left behind in the technological revolution. Thanks, Dad!

I'm in love with the GPS lady, on chezgigi.com

Finally! My dad’s school picture!

I don’t have an app for the things I’d like and which I’ve written about on this blog, but other than that I’ve been a satisfied customer and phone owner.

I use my phone not only for that talking to people thing, but I have a notepad for on-the-go To Do lists, Word docs in case inspiration for The Great American Novel strikes while I’m sitting at a traffic light, email, all my Kindle books are on board (which may be why my gas mileage is down), Scrabble, Google, USAA banking, Google Maps, and the GPS in Google Maps.

If I don’t use this lady, I can no longer find my way home and I’ve lived here for eight years.

In love with the GPS lady, on chezgigi.com

Ahh, La GPS en Paris. Je suis on board with this.

Just as I’m getting used to being completely dependent on something that fits in the palm of my hand, along comes Echo, Siri, and some other snooty women.

I don’t have them in my house because I won’t put up with someone who sounds thirty years younger than I am and who knows everything. She’d fink on everything I do when I’m alone. I already drive around with someone who sounds like them, and she’s the best traveling companion I’ve ever had.

Sorry, Sugar, you don’t help at all and you won’t even sit your butt down in the car.

GPS, Great Pal Shirley, is always calm while I’m driving. I just have to give her the address of where I’m going and she’s on it. Anyone else would have opinions about the best way to go.

Shirley is omniscient. She knows the back roads, the traffic sitch, and she knows exactly when we’ll arrive. I haven’t been able to quite release the distrust I feel when she says, in that soothing way when I’m in a hurry which I always am because I wait too late to leave the house, “You’ll arrive at your destination in 14 minutes.”

Not 13, not 12. She doesn’t even round up like I would do, to 15 minutes. No rounding up for Shirley. Or rounding down to 10 to make it sound like I’m on time, but the traffic sucks. Shirley doesn’t even get mad if I pull into a McDonald’s on the way. With a gentle sigh, she tells us we’ve had an ‘unavoidable french fry delay.’

Right on time, we pull into the driveway of our destination 14 minutes later. How did she know there wouldn’t be a kid who ran in front of me to chase his ball down, causing me two minutes of delay while I yell at him? Or some punk who stalls himself out in my lane trying to pop a wheelie in his mom’s Altima? She takes all the back roads, too. I haven’t seen a traffic light in three years I’m so good at avoiding them.

I don’t have to hand Shirley the map and watch her fumble with it for five minutes while we pass ten exits that were potentially the ones we wanted and then hear her say, “Is this the top of the map? How’d we end up in Nebraska?”

If she was human, I’d be pulling over to shout at every pedestrian, “Do you know where Main Street is?” They never know and they live two minutes away! I used to find a teenager to ask for directions and hope I didn’t get pulled over for being a molester, but teens don’t know where they are anymore.

We pick them up now when they’re two blocks away, after which they play Scrabble on their phones in the car and win. They don’t know where they’re going or how to get there.

Shirley never has to go to the restroom, nor does she raise her voice, “Right! I told you to turn right! Now you’ve passed it, and we can never, ever turn around and go back. Ever!”

She does have her faults. Like telling me to get over into the left hand lane two seconds before I get to the corner and can’t move over now because the blighters in back of me are taking up the lane. And she’s a low talker, as any well bred person should be. I can’t hear her over my rock and roll classics.

But she and I are running away together. Don’t tell Siri. She’s got a big mouth.

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24 Comments

  1. Nelson Mary

    And now that we have a GPS lady (sister to yours?) we no longer have the shouldn’t we stop and ask for directions conversation. Thank goodness. And we get where we’re going mostly on time.
    It is fun to go the wrong way on occasion, the fairly testy way she says “recalibrating” is funny. But I can be amused by very odd things!

  2. Wolfman

    Very Cute. But I don’t know…. I wonder if this soft spoken manner is just to lull us into a false sense of contentment? What if this is mind modification/control.
    What if we find ourselves buying things we don’t need,voting for things we don’t want. I don’t know. Could there be a hidden agenda behind all this electronic help? Or should we just say the heck with it and play another video game or watch a movie like the Kids do. You guys think it over I’m going to take a nap.

    • I never thought of that, Wolfman. Mind control. Shirley. Mind control. Shirley. I think you’re right. I’m going to take a nap, too. And don’t call me Shirley!

  3. Betsy

    Mom & I enjoyed reading about Shirley. Very good. HAPPY Thanksgiving!

  4. Kat

    Well that’s odd! My father walked just the same way to school! Barefoot, mind you.

    • Not odd at all. Your father and mine probably went to school together. They carried fifty pounds of books, too.

      • Kat

        While nibbling on raw potatoes!

        • Well, my dad was in Texas, so he got dirt to nibble. Ha!

        • Nelson Mary

          After doing a paper route!
          Actually, that’s not a joke. My dad did have an afternoon paper route. And in the morning bought bagels from the German bakery and delivered them to the neighbors.
          They did work awfully hard.

          • I cleaned houses and babysat for my allowance. I got 50 cents an hour. Now, I think they get $40 an hour some of them. I might have to go back into business.

          • Nelson Mary

            I used to babysit for 50 cents an hour too. And was sure I was underpaid at the time. Which we were!

          • I never thought I was underpaid, which only proves what a bad labor representative I was!

          • Nelson Mary

            It was a neighbor’s twins that did me in! I knew I should’ve gotten more money for them. Lots more.
            Oh well, at least no one took taxes out of those earnings!

          • This is true. Keep it on the down low!

  5. Nelson Mary

    My father went to the same school! I suspect a conspiracy. (But I always suspect a conspiracy, and am sometimes right!)
    But my dad went to school in Brooklyn, so uphill – not so much. Snowing, oh yea.

    • They would BUILD a hill if they couldn’t find one. Anything to show their superiority. My dad grew up in Texas, near San Antonio and Dallas, so snow? Not so much, Dad.

      I always suspect conspiracies, too. Sometime paranoid people really do have something to be afraid of.

  6. John Mallon

    Gigi, was your father from Texas in Yorkshire, England. I think he must be one of these four Yorkshiremen:-
    Watch “Monty Python – Four Yorkshiremen” on YouTube
    https://youtu.be/26ZDB9h7BLY
    But getting back to the satnav lady, that voice can be so condescending. Our satnav has a setting to change the voice. We always change the voice to a male Irish accent. We call him Seamus who has the most lovely lilting accent.
    However, on occasion, he can get a little lost. Not to worry, it can lead to the pre-sat era old reliable “lets ask someone the way”
    This actually happened one summer Sunday years ago when we were driving in the stunning Lake District looking for the quaintest village called Caiton. I refused the offer to ask directions. So Bernie took it upon herself to stop an elderly couple. But being Irish just like Seamus, a simple “are we in the right road to Caiton” was insufficient. Instead the request was “are we going to Caiton”. The gentleman looked at Bernie and said “madam, you may be going to Caiton but we are certainly not”
    We have hoots of fun reminding Bernie of this unforgettable exchange.
    Seamus redeemed himself and got us to Caiton.

    • Seamus! I want Seamus on my GPS! Your story is so PBS, John. I read it at the park and was chuckling the whole time. Shall file that away as a ‘what not to say’ in the British Isles. I would love to see that area.

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