Are We There Yet? (#125)

I received a GPS for Christmas this past year. I didn’t think I needed one. If I happen to get lost, I have the always dependable and convenient “MILIBS” Navigational System. It’s more commonly known as the “Mother-in-Law in Back Seat” Directional Finder; and do you know what? According to her, in almost twenty long years, she’s never been wrong. To be honest, I sometimes want to be lost! I don’t want some complicated, futuristic computer with a disembodied voice, telling me to turn left into my mother-in-law’s driveway. Heck, I may just slow down, push her out the door, watch her roll onto her lawn, hit the gas, wave goodbye, and head west at ninety miles per hour; until I either run out of gas or the cops pull me over. I have a friend who hates technology, and won’t use a GPS. He relies on his own simple, yet accurate system called the HPS. He swears by it, and says he never gets lost. I asked him what HPS stands for, and he said it’s called “The Homeless guy Positioning System.” According to him, all you have to do if you’re ever lost is look for a homeless guy, pull up, hand him a buck or two, and ask for directions. It seems that for some reason, homeless guys know where everything is. Don’t ask me why. All I know is, my wife’s extremely terrified of them.

I used the HPS system once, and my wife hid in the back seat, and didn’t say a word the rest of the trip! My GPS, even has different voices to choose from. I picked a soft, very feminine voice with a sexy British accent. I sometimes find myself anticipating her lovely, soothing voice saying something like,

“In one-quarter mile, please turn left…….darling.”

I was on a trip a few weeks ago, and even with the help of my GPS, got lost. I’d been driving for hours, when I heard,

“You have reached your destination…….sweetie.”

Stopping the car, and looking around, I could see I was parked on a weed-choked, one-lane dirt road, in a breath-taking, but totally isolated landscape of towering trees, and majestic, snow-covered mountains. I reached into the back seat, lifted the blanket my wife was hiding under, said the homeless guys were gone, and asked her what I should do. She told me to punch in, “WHERE AM I?” into the GPS. This time, the incredibly sexy British voice didn’t sound so reassuring as she said,

“Uhhhh……. you have reached your destination…….mate.”

My wife then said, if I type in our current position, ever-circling satellites in outer space will determine our exact position, feed it into a highly complex system off microchips, and then recalculate and provide a new route to get to our original destination. “This is going to be tough,” I thought. Okay, let’s see if I can do this,


Okay, that should do it. No, wait a minute. That’s not right.


What the heck!

“SASQUATCH IS ON THE HOOD OF MY CAR.” “Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”

“You have reached your destination……….”

“Will you just shut up. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”

“You have reached your destination……DARLING.”

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About Patrick Dykie

I'm a simple, middle class family man, living a quiet life in eastern Pennsylvania with my wife and two sons. I love to write and make people laugh. During the day, I'm an account representative, and at night I'm working hard to be a writer. I've faced some things over the past few years that have slowed me down in my dreams, but I have always been an optimist. I also have a love of life, and believe it is a precious gift. I wish you all well on your own journeys.
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One Response to Are We There Yet? (#125)

  1. Barb says:

    Well, I’ve never quite had that experience with a GPS, but they are contrary machines, intent on taking me the most scenic way possible. Hope you took pictures of Big Foot. They’ll be worth something to National Enquirer.

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