Tag Archives: gps

GPS PMS

Google images: gonzosabroad-blogspot-com

Google images: gonzosabroad-blogspot-com

The overly pleasant voice of my GPS said: “In 400 feet… turn right…”

I drove obediently to the corner of Blinker Street and Hive. After looking carefully both ways, I turned right.

Next GPS instruction: “In 400 feet… turn right…”

At the corner I stopped, and then I turned right again.

Again I heard: “In 400 feet… turn right…”

Hmm, that’s odd, I thought. Another right turn. At the next corner I turned right.

Then: “In 400 feet… turn right…”

Something smells really weird here, I thought. I should be getting nearer to Bob’s Toilet Parts, but the GPS just took me around the block.

Unsure of what to do, I turned right.

“In 400 feet… turn right…”

This is becoming ridiculous. I thought. I hit the “Nav” button. The radio came on. I pushed the “Dest” button. The wipers started. I pushed the “Map” button. I saw a map. But I couldn’t understand it.

I turned right.

“In 400 feet… turn right…”

Whoa! I exclaimed to myself. I almost missed that last right turn! Where in the world is my destination anyway? It must be around here somewhere.

For a moment I forgot where I was going. Then I remembered I needed a new flusher lever, ballcock nut, and universal rundle number 503. Ah yes, the toilet store.

“In 400 feet… turn right…”

“Okay,” I told my car. Compliantly, I turned right.

This went on for a while. Then I realized that I was in the wrong town. I parked the car and went to a bar.

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Filed under Accidents, Communication, Education, Family, Fun, Growing old, Happy to help, Humor, Interpersonal conflicts, Life challenges, Oops, Technology, Time, Time management, Travel, Trust, You're not alone!

Wow, Am I Glad I’m Not Stuck Alone in a Cold Car in a Dark, Freezing Forest!

Google images: lehighvalleywithlove.com

Google images: lehighvalleywithlove.com

I was driving on a lonely, snowy back road when my car fishtailed. I spun and landed at a 45-degree angle in a snowy woodsy gully. Saplings wedged my doors shut.

No problem, I thought jauntily. In this day and era of gadgety and computerized automobility, I’ll have no trouble connecting with someone to help me escape from this misshapen Chevy.

I scrounged my pockets for my portable Commodore phone, but I discovered I had left it in my other phone holster.

No problem, I thought in a lively and cheerful manner. After I push aside this cumbersome and intrusively deployed airbag, I’ll easily access assistance via our car’s handy-brandy, blueberry-tooth, space-aged, drone-like, satellitistic messaging system. Hmm, now where did I put the recipe for that digital wigga-whammy?

I couldn’t find the digital wigga-whammy nor the recipe. I think both are in my other glove box.

Well, I thought with confident optimism. This is not like the olden days when people fishtailed on ice and ended up alone in a snow-filled woodsy gully ditch in the middle of nowhere because their car slipped off the road after spinning. In those days there was no way to communicate! Those days are over! Finished! Kaput!

Google images: autofocus.ca

All I have to do is punch in my friend Ed’s number into my conveniently portable dashboard–slash–windshield-washer roboticizer, and Ed will pick up one of his sundry devices and will jiffy pop over here to rescue me from this ever-darkening and ever-creepier woods where it is now starting to snow again harder this time.

I stuck the suction cup to the window and plugged the wire into the e-cigarette porthole. I pressed the Search key. Nothing happened.

Hmm, I thought. Electronical system not working. Probably a short in the trunk.

I attempted to maintain my sprightly mood.

When I finally managed to access Ed’s voicemail, night had fallen. I left a message for Ed. Ed returned my call three days later as I recovered in the hospital from frostbite.

“Hey, Blair,” Ed said. “I just saw your message. What’s up?”

“Thanks, Ed.” I said. “I almost died in a terrible car accident, and I called you for help. Where were you?”

“How do I know where I was?” said Ed. “That was three days ago. I don’t even know where I am today, ha ha ha!”

“Ha ha ha” I muttered. “Some friend. Thanks a lot for rescuing me.”

After saying goodbye to Ed, I hit the nurse’s call button to request additional jauntiness medication, but instead I mistakenly activated the hospital’s sprinkler system.

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Filed under Friendship, Growing old, Happy to help, Humor, Interpersonal conflicts, Life challenges, Relationships, Technology, Time management, Travel, Trust, You're not alone!