All GPS devices should have names. I mean, what sound better: "My Garmin NĂ¼vi 1234 says to go this way" or "Jill says to go there"? And so, my first GPS was named "Gaby" for two reasons: at that time, my wife and I were fans of Desperate Housewives and Gabriella Solis was one of our favorite characters; and the GPS talked incessantly at us.
My next GPS was named "Mattie" because she was the first GPS that I owned which had lifetime free map updates and traffic reports. Get it, Map And Traffic...Mattie?
So, now I am pleased to introduce you to my newest GPS device..."Red Leader."
Thanks, Garmin, for letting pretend I'm flying down the trench of the Death Star.
I am constantly in my car and I think about a lot of things while on the road. So, for the enjoyment of the reading public, I present my random musings while driving.
Showing posts with label GPS. Show all posts
Showing posts with label GPS. Show all posts
Monday, February 9, 2015
Wednesday, April 24, 2013
Creature of Habit
I am a creature of habit. I have a removable GPS attached to my windshield in the lower left corner. That's where it always is, even if I'm just doing my same old route to and from work every day. I took it into my house the other day to download the newest updates and have forgotten to bring it back to the car for the last three days.
There's nothing in the lower left corner of my windshield now except the bracket to hold the GPS and a power cord. Yet I am constantly looking at the corner to see if there are any traffic problems on the route ahead; or I'm looking to see what my speed is; or I'm looking to see the next intersection.
Even though I know there's nothing there to look at, I constantly glance at that spot to find that it hasn't magically reappeared.
There's nothing in the lower left corner of my windshield now except the bracket to hold the GPS and a power cord. Yet I am constantly looking at the corner to see if there are any traffic problems on the route ahead; or I'm looking to see what my speed is; or I'm looking to see the next intersection.
Even though I know there's nothing there to look at, I constantly glance at that spot to find that it hasn't magically reappeared.
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