I was lost, but now I'm found (I think)

by jodi marneris

June 2023--Some of us are directionally challenged—we can’t follow directions and we can’t give ‘em. Well, we can give ‘em—but you might not want to follow ‘em.

Some of us are used to just knowing where to go and some of us have to learn a new way. And then some of us have to learn even another new way of getting of point A to point Z—and all the points in between.

I’m what you’d call all of the above. Sometimes I can’t follow them, sometimes I can’t give them (and if I do—you might want to think twice before you head out) and I’ve had to learn entirely new ways of getting where I need to go.

I grew up being used to a grid system, which is quite simply where streets run parallel to their own set and perpendicular to the other set. And lots of numbers---you knew 99th Street was one block from 100th Street. But then they throw in “Place.” So does 99th Place come before or after 99th Street? Depends on which way you’re going. Trial and error and a few U-turns. It may sound complicated but as soon as I mastered it—well, it was all I knew.

We moved from a large metropolitan area to a semi-rural area in another state. I say semi-rural because our immediate location is surrounded by highways with little to no retail—well, except for a gas station, a breakfast diner and a Dollar General. Just about 20 minutes away is a bustling town with everything I was used to having close by when I lived in a bigger city.

Took me some getting used to this new area—I used to only be there on weekends—but I think I’ve got it. I think. The number of U-turns has lessened, and I feel pretty accomplished when I make it to my location—especially on the first try. Of course, I use GPS. But even then I still have some trouble.

I was not a math major and can’t always figure out how far 500 feet is—so when my GPS tells me to turn right in 500 feet and I see two roads off to the right—you guessed it, I usually end up choosing the wrong one.

But GPS is still better than the paper maps since it’s hard to keep your eyes on the road and the map at the same time.

I can remember using a large map holding it upright on my lap (as a passenger) and running my finger down the route to make sure we were going in the right direction. Then came the internet and I was thrilled to type in an address and voila! I printed pages of directions from Mapquest before we were going to go anywhere that was unfamiliar to us. There was, however, always that one road or that one highway that didn’t make it on their maps—so there were times I still got lost.

Then I got a Garmin—the portable model you plug into your cigarette lighter. Cars don’t even come with cigarette lighters anymore, so your Garmin can be useless. And, unless you paid extra for the updates each year, your Garmin was outdated and couldn’t always get you where you needed to be. (Can’t tell you how many times I sat in my car in the garage and tried to sync it to my WiFi so I could update. Needless to say, I gave up.)

Garmin and other companies use GPS--a satellite navigation based on a global network of satellites that transmit radio signals from the earth's orbit. It works from the car, cell phone or even an iPad.

You’d think my problems would have been solved. Nope. Not for me anyway.

I downloaded Waze—but it always seems to take me off the road I need to be on and through areas unknown. But amazingly, it does get me where I need to go. Did you know you can change the voice on the app? A friend changed his to Arnold Schwarzenegger. The first time I heard it I about jumped out of my seat belt. There was a police car ahead and Arnold in his gruffy voice and thick accent shouted "Look out—get down.” It honestly scared the heck out of me.

Then there’s Siri. We were driving and asked Siri for directions to a restaurant we wanted to go to. Here’s what Siri said: “Sorry, I can’t show you while you’re in the car.” My friend said Well, alrighty then. We both looked at each other and laughed.

I’m spending a lot of time down South—and it’s like learning directions all over again. I’m now used to using my nav system in the car, so I need an address. But giving an address isn’t common in the South.

Tried to find my way to the school complex. It’s home to several buildings encompassing pre-school through high school. All of the roads there seem to be circles. Not one of those buildings had an address number on it—nor were there any street names, at least that I could find. It makes me wonder how they use their GPS--do they just punch in "white church," or "big tree" or maybe even "red barn" and the nav system knows where to take them?

But people don't need the numbers or street names. They just know where to go. That’s fine for some—but not for all. Especially the “move ins”—you know the people who weren’t born and raised in that town but rather later on they “move in.” Or the “flatlanders”—the ones not used to driving on mountain roads. I’ve never seen a road sign on one of the mountains. Oh, I’m sure they’re there—it’s just that I don’t take my eyes off the road for fear I’m going to tip right off the side.

Some friends told me about a new store that opened. Said it’s on the square. I was a rookie in town so I asked where “the square” was. Of course, I felt like more than a dozen eyes were rolling in disbelief that I didn’t know where the square was. Heck, I’m from a big city—I didn’t even know what “the square” is. (I lie—I’ve watched enough Hallmark movies to know what “the square” is.)

Directions I’ve received: Go down the main road until you pass the red barn on the right. Then turn left and go past two curves until you see a really big tree. It’s just past that. Good thing there was only one red barn, and it was on the right. But as for the big tree? I passed a lot of them and to me they all looked big. Guess it’s a matter of perspective.

I asked if there’s a drug store in town. Go past two lights (I assumed they meant traffic lights and not front porch lights) and through the roundabout to the second turn, then take a right where the gas station used to be. Used to be? I haven’t been here long enough to know where things used to be. But wouldn’t you know it—there was a building that looked like at one time it was a gas station. I took a right and got to where I needed to be.

In another small town, the McDonald’s is the starting point. A friend was heading out to a meeting, and someone asked where they were going to meet. The boss asked if they knew where the McDonald’s was. Everyone shook their head yes—to which the boss replied, “Ok, start at the McDonald’s…..”

A lady I know printed out directions to go see a house that was for sale. The printed sheet—no lie—said once they got to a specific road they should turn and go past the big brush pile. I know people like to use landmarks, but when did a brush pile become a landmark? And not just a brush pile but a big brush pile. Her husband asked, “What happens if they ever burn that?” He does have a point. If it’s me heading there, I’m making a U-turn or two.

I also saw a post on the local Facebook page asking for recommendations for a new vet. Several people posted great remarks about this veterinarian so the author of the post asked where it was located. The response? “Right by the roundabout.” (You've probably figured out there's only one roundabout in town.)

Landmarks are often used when giving directions everywhere—and being in the South is no exception. Except that the landmarks include the Smith Barn (Hmm….never knew the Smiths so I don’t know which barn was theirs.), the white church (I’ve noticed just about every church down here is white), or the fruit and vegetable stand (these are everywhere so I apologize to the people behind me because I keep slowing down to turn off the road only to find that wasn’t the right one.)

To the credit of the people down South, studies have shown people are more likely to retain directions when they begin with a landmark and end with an object of interest. So, just start at the County Courthouse and end up near the church and you’ll be just fine.

I’ve also noticed people give directions in minutes—not so much in miles. And it seems like everything is either 20 minutes or two hours. Heading to Atlanta? Two hours. Heading to Asheville? Two hours. Have to get something at the hardware store? 20 minutes. Need a few things from Walmart? 20 minutes.

Getting lost can be so frustrating so If someone is lost and asks for help, I try to help. At least I’ll do my best. I’d like to think I’d always go the extra mile.

Well, of course I go the extra mile--that’s what happens when you’re directionally challenged.

Take it one day--or one mile--at a time.

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