Weening Off the GPS

Magellan Blazer12 GPS Receiver.

Magellan Blazer12 GPS Receiver. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Mastering the art of a new lay of land, turning down a road with confidence, or simply being able to give directions is harder then you may think. Armed with no sense of direction and a memory span of a goldfish, finding my way around Rye has been in the hands of my handy-dandy GPS. I hop in the car, power up my navigator and cruise to work, Portsmouth, or wherever my heart desires.

Frankly relying on technology is not something I advocate for, as swift, easy, and uncomplicated as technology makes my life relying on it churns my stomach in the most unnatural of ways. I then begin to feel helpless and unsure without my GPS leading me through the course, “Ahead, come to a stop and make a left, then proceed for approximately 25 miles.” I become tethered, depending on the GPS to know exactly where I want to go, to get me there the fastest way possible, and to not die on me.

I am nervously awaiting the day it fails to turn on. Unfortunately, my handy-dandy GPS (yes I am blatantly saying handy-dandy in reference to Blue’s Clues handy-dandy notebook, don’t judge me)

Toys made in Blue and Periwinkle's images

Toys made in Blue and Periwinkle’s images (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

has already steered me wrong. It of course decided to do so on the day of a job interview, making me late and having to call the interviewer and ask for directions. Needless to say, technology is not all it’s cracked up to be. We enjoy talking it up and utilizing its ability to make our life easier but when it fails us, we act surprised, shocked, and befuddled.

So here’s to weening off my GPS. Leaving for work, my internship, the bars, and other locations early enough to depend on my goldfish memory and improve my sense of direction. I would be a liar to say that my GPS will not remain in the car. Lets call my GPS Lolita, for the simply pleasure of not having to use the word GPS anymore. Lolita will rest in the middle console of my car on the off chance that I find myself terribly lost with no hope of finding my own way out. The 21st century has its perks but if I truly want to start feeling like Rye is my home then I need to say adios Lolita and engage the maps that lurk within the confines of my brain.