Imprecise navigation
Part of the suburban parent role includes time as an unpaid taxi owner/operator. Unavoidable. We all want the best for our children, and that involves sites that are outside the limits of the average home. Remember how a certain presidential candidate authored a book entitled “It Takes A Village”? The subtext “To Raise A Child” should be accompanied with “Because You Will Be Driving Around”. In circles, far too often.
This evening, the call came to retrieve one of the prodigal sons. He’d left, on foot, to go to a friend’s house, but along the way the pair had ended up much farther afield. Now it was time for a parent to fetch them back again. I won the coin toss (virtual) because I’d already been to the address, back in the good old summertime. With the help of Google Earth and the new GPS, I keyed in the potential destination and set off in the dark.
Focus, if you will, on the term “potential”. My memory of the address was that the street name involved gemstones and was in a nearby municipality. This is insufficient information when a) snowbanks cover the landscape and b) it’s very, very dark outside. The GPS chirped my upcoming turns and in time I found myself deep in the woods east of here, in the land of the snowmobile. No other familiar landmarks.
I tried stopping at houses for directions, but we live in a time when strangers are suspect. No choice but to return home, telephone the parent and get a proper civic address. And then drive back again. I can rationalize here; the first time around, my son did spot me and did throw a mitten in my direction. From now on, this driver will only go out with a written destination and a list of phone contacts.
