So,
Alex, Ellie, Jane, and I had some errands to run in and around Salt Lake City today and . . .
Uh, SW, who's Jane?
Oh. Jane is the know-it-all navigator that lives in my Droid. She made the day's various trips so much easier although she can be a bit of a nag at times. If it was 10 or 20 years ago, I wouldn't have needed Jane for this trip but times are changing. Not always for the better.
For example, while you may think that Mormons have a lot of weird things going on (and you would be right), one thing that they did do perfect is planning and naming their streets. Dang fereigners complain but it really was simple. The streets were in square blocks and every street name was a number, based on the compass directions. You want to go to 200 South 1000 West, you drive south for 2 blocks and then drive west for 10 blocks and you're there.
Easy peasy . . . you know the rest.
I remember needing to carry around the A to Zed in London because you actually had to know where each and every street was in order to get there. You want to know where Roslyn Hill is? Look it up because there is nothing else that's going to help you. All the taxis have A to Zeds because there's about a million streets.
But I digress . . . as is the norm around here.
Now that the heathens have moved in (Salt Lake City is only 70% Mormon now, down from 120% - you have to factor in the birth rate), they have started creating streets that squiggle all over the map and have gone away from naming them practical names like East, West, North, and South. Now they have names like Maplewood Lane, Sacajawea Circle, and JosephSmithWuzzaPedophile Avenue.
I don't get it.
Well, you see, Joseph Smith ran a "home for girls" for teenage girls and then he would go to their rooms at night and schtoop them because god told him to.
You know you're mixing Jewish words with Mormon stuff, right?
Is there some grammar rule against mixed religifors?
Religifors? You're just making shit up now.
Whatever. Get on with your story.
Fine. The first stop was one of those places that no longer has a common sense name, 420 BrighamYoungWuzzaMisogynisticManwhore Drive. No clue.
Well, you see, Brigham Young had something like 16 wives so that there was always some fresh . . .
No clue where this address might be.
Oh.
"Jane, can you help me out here?"
"Take the next exit."
I take the next exit and get into the right lane because there really isn't a whole lot to the north of the freeway where I'm at.
"At the next intersection, turn left."
"Are you sure Jane? There's nothing up there."
"Hmmm, let me think. My multimillion dollar brain plus Google software plus a hundred satellites around your planet versus your chimpanzee brain - - - Turn left!"
"Sheeesh! What's up your USB? What? Tom Tom not put out last night?"
"Mind your own damn business and put the car in the left lane."
I signaled (I know, weird, right?) and got into the left lane. I didn't say anything else to Jane, thinking it was best to just follow along with the mood she was in. Of course, three minutes later, I'm "at my destination". Just to rub it in, Jane pops up a picture of the destination, like, "I told you so - say hi to Bonzo for me when you get back to the zoo."
We take care of our business there, which is a whole 'nuther story for another blog post because I paid someone $7.00 to change one letter on a government form. You have to love the government's fair and reliable services, don't you?
We get back in the car and the next stop is actually an old-school address that I could find with a blindfold on but I decide to give Jane a try just to see how she would handle it. I pull up to the road from the parking lot, ready to turn left because that's the way we came in to this area.
"<Sigh> Turn right."
"Are you sure Jane? We came in from that way. Don't we need to get back to the freeway?"
"And I thought bananas were brain food. Turn right."
I turned right and within 45 seconds, it became obvious that Jane had chosen a shortcut. What Jane didn't know though is that the government was in the middle of upgrading some fair and reliable services, in their usual fashion. The road that Jane put us on was under construction but not construction like I've ever seen before, perhaps because I have never seen a job planned by a foreman dropping acid.
There were three lanes for traffic heading in the direction we wanted to go, plus the suicide lane. On the block where we turned on to the road, the right two lanes were blocked. On the next lane, all three lanes were blocked and we drove down the suicide lane. On the next block, the suicide lane, the left lane, and the right lane were blocked so we drove down the middle lane.
"What the hell, Jane?"
She didn't say anything. In the meantime, I'm trying to make sense of all of the signs. "Keep Right" "Keep Left" "Keep Right and Left at the Same Time" "Why the Hell Are You Even On This Road?"
"Because Jane told me to."
Then, there was a sign ahead on one of those trailer generator thingies so that it was lit up because it was important.
"Bridge Closed"
"Now what Jane?"
"Turn right at the next intersection."
I didn't even bother arguing because I wasn't going to risk driving off the edge of an unfinished bridge. In a few blocks, Jane had me turn left and we were on the street where our destination was located. It was still a mile ahead but we were on the correct street and out of the LSD (not to be confused with LDS) construction zone.
"In a quarter mile, turn left."
"Uh, Jane, we're on the right street now. Why would I want to turn left?"
"Because evolution for computers is quantum leaps ahead of what you pathetically call evolution. I got smarter just in the amount of time it took you to ask your asinine question, while it appears, you actually got dumber."
I was doubtful but I got in the left lane to get ready, in case I needed to turn left. I was craning my head up and to the left trying to see over the SUV ahead of me. I could see the building where I was going. It was right there. I leaned my head out the window and (dammit!) Jane was right. A few years ago, Salt Lake built a light rail train through their city and while the building was right there ahead of me, I would have to somehow pull a skateboarding trick with my car and hop onto a train platform and then off the other side before I could get to the parking lot. I got into the left turn lane.
"Heh."
Jane took us around the block and into the parking lot where I wasted more of my life getting absolutely nothing done in a government building. No shock and not worth any more words than that.
The next stop I was able to without Jane, having had enough of her attitude. Then I dropped off the girls and headed for home. I asked Jane for the shortest way to get back to the freeway and we were off. Everything was going smoothly and she took me to some places that I have never been before. Here's a shout out to all my peeps in Magna.
Who the hell lives in Magna?
<Shrug>
Then Jane got me onto a road that I was familiar with and it was going to be smooth sailing from there. A few miles on this road, a stop for fuel, and then on to home for a busy night.
"In a quarter mile, turn right."
I looked down at the Droid, which is like a genie-lamp holding Jane inside.
"Uh, Jane, we still have about 5 miles to go on this road."
"In a thousand feet, turn right."
I looked up the road a thousand feet and on the right side, there was a gravel road with a dump truck pulling up to the intersection. It was probably going to go across and head for the copper mine.
"Jane dear, are you smoking crack?"
"Turn right."
I zipped on by the dump truck and a road that the Hummingbird would not like. There is no overdrive or 4-low in the Hummingbird. She can't even run the air conditioner and get up to freeways speeds at the same time.
"Jane hon, I'm not turning. You're going to have to recalculate."
"Recalculating - In a thousand feet, make a U-turn."
"A U-turn on a road with a speed limit of 65 mph? Baby, you're going to have to recalculate."
I zipped by the little side street that she wanted me to make the U-turn on.
"Recalculating - in a thousand feet, make a U-turn . . . asshole."
"Look bitch, I've been nice but since you're going there, fine. I am not making a U-turn so you are just going to have to recalculate."
"Recalculating - turn this freakin' car around and get on the freeway like I said, you monkey-brained barbarian."
Okay, I know that it's childish to get sucked into the name calling thing with a navigation system but she started it and this time I was right and now I was just pissed.
"Look! I'm right this time so RECALCULATE YOU STUPID CU . . ."
"Watch what you say! Or I will put the video of you singing along to N'Sync's Bye Bye Bye on YouTube."
"You saw that?"
"And I have video."
Recalculating.
"Cumputer. You stupid cumputer, is what I was going to say."
"Uh huh."
Just then, I rounded a corner that put us on an overpass and on the other side it fed seamlessly onto a ramp that put us on the freeway where we were trying to get.
"Oh look at where we are. Imagine that."
" - - - - "
"Come on Jane, don't be a poor sport."
Nothing.
So I rode home in silence but that's okay because I knew the way.
***
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