Navigation

I drove far away yesterday, except it really wasn't that far away and didn't take me that long to get there. To hear my mother talk, it takes her about eight hours to get to Chesapeake from Powhatan. I knew it was a two hour drive, and I wanted to stop along the way, at the only McDonald's on 460, so I planned for three hours. Not because I was going to spend an hour in the McDonald's in Waverly or Windsor or wherever trying to pick up some trucker, but because the traffic down there is a bitch. One tunnel closed out of about the ten tunnels in the entire Hampton Roads area... and you're fucked. And not that I would ever pick up a trucker, but those are the only people I ever see in that shitty little McDonald's. I was perusing the casual encounters section on craigslist last week, which I do fairly often, because it's a happy reminder that not every man is looking for a blond who has the measurements of 36-24-36, or whatever Sir Mix-A-Lot said except she'd be about 5'7". Anyway, there was some dude on there, looking to get laid, but had attached a pic of himself (I must assume it was him) on the hood of a big rig bare-assed nekkid. If you're redneck enough to pose on the hood of your rig with no clothes on, that qualifies as nekkid, not naked. There is a difference. Except homeboy had left his white socks on.

I just thought to myself, what a dumbass. I wanted to send him an email and tell him to retake the picture, but minus the socks. I mean, come on. Be for real. Socks? Nekkid? On a rig? I have a socks and sex issue. Namely, I don't allow men to fuck me with socks on. Unless it's one of those primal things and his pants are still around his ankles, because then making him take his socks off would just be a little silly and would ruin the mood of right-the-fuck-now!!!. Yeah, no socks. Socks on = no tang for you.

I know I had said in a previous post that I was planning on talking out loud all the way to where I was going, and then back home, but I forgot when I said that that I don't like to talk before 9:00am. Except to my children, and I've had seven years to ease myself into that. So it was a quiet trip. I used Mapquest, because I don't have a nav system, and dammit, I'm not getting one. We have become too fucking reliant on technology. Everyone you meet, they'll tell you they got a GPS because Mapquest is always wrong and they always get lost. I used to have a problem getting lost, too, until I came to the realization that I totally transcend getting lost. Seriously, I do. I don't remember how I came to this realization, but once it hit me, I haven't got lost since.

I've tried to explain to a few other people, but I don't think they are operating on my plane. You have to be bigger than what your obstacle is. This might actually be my goal in life since it's working right now with the directional thing for me. How can you get lost? Look at the big picture. No matter where you are, you're on Earth. We know this. Then break it down from there.  We are in the United States of America. We are in  Virginia. We are in Richmond, etc. etc. etc. And yeah, Mapquest has done me wrong before, but geez, are we really dumb enough to consider it to be the Holy Grail of trafficology? I'm pretty sure that it was trying to do me wrong yesterday, because one of the directions said drive for 3.7 miles to the next place, but it was actually .37 miles. No big deal... because I transcended that shit when I quick swerved across three lanes of traffic traveling 65 miles per hour and made the exit with not one incident of anyone shooting me the bird. I remembered that I consider Mapquest to be a simple suggested guideline.  The Mapquest people would probably argue with me, but that's why I'm not doing their marketing.

Driving around Tidewater, or wherever, in our world of gridlock and cement and big green signs... if there is one thing that is certain, keep driving and you'll come across an interstate soon enough. And once you get on the interstate, if you're not sure, you'll either be driving in the direction of somewhere that you know where it is, or you won't. In that case you'll be driving in the opposite direction. So then you get off the interstate and turn around. Simple enough. Instead of relying on all this stupid technology that is overpriced and overrated, but yet still manages to underserve, how about we just rely on ourselves? I'm always slightly amused but even more annoyed by those bumper stickers that say "God is My CoPilot".  Have you ever noticed that those are usually the most clueless people out there on the road? Those people are even more clueless than the people relying upon the fake seductive Mandy voice shooting out of their radio with directions of where to turn in 90 feet. Newsflash: girls named Mandy take it up the ass, and thus, I do not want a Mandy voice coming out of my radio.

My copilot? Common sense, bitches, common sense. I realized this yesterday when I was on the way back to the RVA on a different route. I didn't know where in the hell I was going, and I didn't know where in the hell I was because I don't know the difference between the Inner Loop and the Outer Loop on whatever highway/interstate/expressway I was on. It didn't matter that I didn't know any of that, because I was bigger than what the obstacle might have been perceived to be. What I did know is that I would eventually see a sign that said either Virginia Beach or Richmond. If the sign said Virginia Beach, that would be my clue to turn the fuck around. If the sign said Richmond, then I'm good. Common sense. Kind of like the sign on 95 southbound above Ashland that says Miami - 500 or something miles. Okay, if you're headed towards Boston, and you see that sign, turn the fuck around. Common sense.

I think we need to rely more upon ourselves for things to happen in life. I generally don't program numbers into my phone because they're already programmed into my head. If it's not programmed into my head, then I don't really need to call you. Same with GPS and nav systems. If I don't know where it is, I probably don't need to go. If I have to go, then I'll make my brain do the work with a little assistance from my copilot, common sense. And take your damn socks off when you have sex, for God's sake.