The Road Less Traveled

 

The road less traveled is often less traveled for a reason.  How do I know?  Because usually when I travel on the road less traveled it’s because I’m lost.

Whenever I go somewhere new, I have 2 women in the car giving me directions; GPS Lady, and my wife.  Before I explain, let me say that each of these women are unique.  I’m acquainted with GPS Lady through my cell phone via Google Maps.  I am acquainted with my wife through 25 years of marriage. 

GPS Lady likes to mess with my brain.  When we first leave our house, she uses a British accent for a block or two.  Then she switches to an American accent for the rest of the trip. Once she spoke with a German accent and barked at me, “You vill turn right at the next intersection, and remember ve have ways of making you comply!” 

My wife Rose has her own quirks as well. She offers her own preferred routes, which are often in conflict with those suggested by GPS Lady.  The kicker here is that whether she knows for sure where she’s directing me, or she’s just tossing out instructions without being familiar with the route, she delivers those directions with the same absolute conviction.  It’s only when it becomes apparent that she screwed up, that she confesses, “I didn’t know exactly where that street would lead.”  Really?  These aren’t jelly beans in a jar – I’m not asking you to guess which way to turn!

No matter how many times she does this to me, I still believe she knows what she’s talking about because of the convincing manner in which she imparts the information.  Also, for years she was my “brain trust.”  I don’t sleep well at night, and even though I’m a fairly high functioning “zombie” I have relied on Rose, as my “keeper,” to prevent me from harming myself or us.

You’re probably wondering what I meant by that last statement.  I’m about to turn 76, or 532 in dog years (that joke never gets old).  From lack of sleep, I have been known to leave the oven or a burner on after cooking our dinner, or lights on, or a toilet running.  Thankfully, Rose has always been there to catch most of my mistakes, and so far, I haven’t burnt the house down.

But, Rose is aging as well, and “the old gray mare, she ain’t what she used to be.”  In her case, she’ll forget something I told her just moments ago.  I can’t tell if it’s because she wasn’t really listening to me or her memory is getting bad.  I also believe that at some point in each marriage spouses develop the ability to nod at the appropriate times, and even say, “Uh huh” during brief pauses, when really what their minds hear is, “Blah, blah, blah, blah.”

That being said, she’s still great at following up behind me and spotting my errors and omissions.

Getting back to the way she gives me directions in the car with authority, even when she’s not certain they’re correct.

When this happens to be wrong, we describe the information as “Something she pulled out of her butt.”  It’s “Ca-Ca” and of no value. 

Once we were in Seattle for our son’s wedding, and we drove my ex-wife back to her hotel, and I had 3 women giving me directions! 

It’s not like having a woman tell me what to do upsets me.  It doesn’t, however, in my late night fantasies, the women telling me what to do are usually wearing black leather, red lipstick and nail polish, and tall stiletto heels.  I have yet to get either my wife or GPS Lady to wear one of my fantasy outfits, but I still let them tell me to take those roads less traveled.