Denise Tries Technology

It's Labor Day weekend and instead of sticking around the house, I flew to Indiana to judge a goat show. Left on Friday, returning Sunday (today). On this particular trip, I decided to embrace the technology the rest of the world has been using for quite some time.

I opened the Garmin I received for Christmas '09 and took it with me. I have found that -- oddly enough -- not very many goat shows are held in cities, so I often find myself driving from an airport to some rural location on dark roads. I mean dark roads -- with no 7-11s in sight, nowhere but a farmhouse to stop and ask directions. I hate Mapquest. After it sent me yet again to the wrong place -- this time to a closed fishing camp somewhere in Michigan -- I asked for a Garmin for Christmas.

I have a reputation in the family for being a bad driver. It's true that I am unable to drive without twitching, talking on the cell (or worse, texting!), drinking, changing the radio station, looking under the seat for something I dropped, etc, thus making it appear that I am not paying attention to the road. Way back when when I had my driver's permit and was driving with my dad one day, he counted something like 100 times that I moved, scratched, shifted in my seat, or played with my hair in a 30-minute drive. (that's only three movements per minute. sheesh)

So even though I can parallel park my three-horse trailer and routinely back the same trailer a block-and-a-half down the street to turn it around; because of my twitchiness, my family thinks I'm a horrid driver. Then, why did they think it was a good idea to give me something else to fart around with in the car?

Okay. So I took the Garmin to Indiana. But I also took a map, and then stopped and asked directions on my to the show Friday night. But this morning, I was feeling pretty confident with my chatty little friend on the dashboard; and even when the freeway signs told me that the airport exit was 4 miles away, I believed Garmin and followed its directions to nowhere.

What happened, Garmin? When they moved the Indianapolis International Airport TWO YEARS AGO, did they forget to tell you?


(ps and then, to fully embrace more technology,  I bought a netbook at Walmart. I'm typing as I flying. How cool is that?)

(pps because I discovered a 17" laptop is not very easy to travel with)

(ppps don't tell Allan)

Why I decided to start blogging.

Tere told me she was blogging and that, if you wanted, you could have it bound into a book.  For some reason, the whole book idea spoke to me, and I decided that I should keep a record of my thoughts and feelings for, well, posterity. 

Actually, I suppose I had an idea of creating something for my kids when I'm gone.  Not being maudlin or corny here, but I wanted to chronicle some of my memories for them (or at least MY version of the events); and I also wanted to write about me, what makes me who I am.  Now that my mom is gone and my dad is a little loopy, I've lost the chance to ask questions about why or how  or when.  And I hope that this gives them some things to think about, and maybe they'll realize why I behaved the way I did (or probably still do). 

I also want to impart some words of advice and wisdom that they may not want to hear at this point in their lives, but are words of wisdom anyway.

Today's wisdom:  Always tip the hotel maid.  She works harder than hard and picks up all your crap and scrubs the toilet for you -- for minimum wage.  You're on vacation.  What's an extra dollar or two?