GPS
Yrs Trly is looking at a long auto-trip to south Jersey this weekend, about seven hours.
South Jersey is where I’m from originally. The intent is to visit some cousins, and probably my only remaining aunt, who is their mother. She’s 84; I myself am 70.
At my age, I don’t look forward to this trip.
I never can get on-the-road until about 10:15; just taking my dog to her boarder is about an hour there-and-back.
This means I won’t get to my destination until after dark, and it’s an unknown destination.
For that reason I was interested in the GPS on my iPhone. GPS can pinpoint the exact location of my destination, and it’s a house off a rural road.
There is pipeline piping just before the driveway, but if it’s dark I probably won’t see it.
Supposedly GPS would pinpoint the exact location.
A lady-friend I eat dinner with does GPS on her iPhone. She would show me how.
“Okay,” I said; “The supposed reason for this dinner was to show me how to GPS with my iPhone.”
“Simple,” she said. She took out her iPhone and started stroking it.
“Wait a minute!” I screamed, “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”
We played musical chairs so I could sit next to her.
Swipe — swipe — swipe — swipe! Punctuated by occasional “yadda-yadda.”
“How do you get to that screen?”
“You just play with it,” she said.
The old waazoo: try this and see what happens.
I poked around, and ascertained a curved arrow took me to a location-menu I had already made, including my own house, plus the house in south Jersey.
Plus the “16th Street Baptist Church in Atlanta, GA,” plus “8 inches in my driveway.” Why they’re in there I’ll never know, and I don’t know yet how to get them out.
I stabbed around some more. The iPhone would GPS me to my house, or the house in south Jersey, from my current location, the restaurant.
It would speak directions at me, and display maps on its screen while I proceeded.
“Okay, but what matters is it’s gotta pinpoint the exact location of that house in south Jersey,” I said.
“It does that,” she said.
“I’ve never been there before, and usually the GPS is in my head.”
Back-and-forth we went, me yelling, and my friend stroking.
But it was okay; she wasn’t useless.
What she ended up being was like my wife, deceased a while ago.
(This lady is also bereaved; her husband died.)
She, and my wife, would get me poking around; try this and see what happens.
I tried poking around a few days ago, but got fouled up. I need someone around to ask questions, or in my wife’s case hold my hand.
So now I guess I essentially have it figured out, but I needed that lady to hold my hand.
Then too, the iPhone GPS gives me a route I prefer to not use. For example, it directs me to an Interstate I don’t use because it dog-legs.
If I had it on as I started this trip, I’d drive it crazy recalculating.
• I eat dinner every Wednesday night with a group of other bereaved; although in this case it was Monday, because Wednesday-night would be Christmas-Eve, and the restaurant would be closed.
• My beloved wife of over 44 years died of cancer April 17th, 2012. I miss her dearly.
South Jersey is where I’m from originally. The intent is to visit some cousins, and probably my only remaining aunt, who is their mother. She’s 84; I myself am 70.
At my age, I don’t look forward to this trip.
I never can get on-the-road until about 10:15; just taking my dog to her boarder is about an hour there-and-back.
This means I won’t get to my destination until after dark, and it’s an unknown destination.
For that reason I was interested in the GPS on my iPhone. GPS can pinpoint the exact location of my destination, and it’s a house off a rural road.
There is pipeline piping just before the driveway, but if it’s dark I probably won’t see it.
Supposedly GPS would pinpoint the exact location.
A lady-friend I eat dinner with does GPS on her iPhone. She would show me how.
“Okay,” I said; “The supposed reason for this dinner was to show me how to GPS with my iPhone.”
“Simple,” she said. She took out her iPhone and started stroking it.
“Wait a minute!” I screamed, “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”
We played musical chairs so I could sit next to her.
Swipe — swipe — swipe — swipe! Punctuated by occasional “yadda-yadda.”
“How do you get to that screen?”
“You just play with it,” she said.
The old waazoo: try this and see what happens.
I poked around, and ascertained a curved arrow took me to a location-menu I had already made, including my own house, plus the house in south Jersey.
Plus the “16th Street Baptist Church in Atlanta, GA,” plus “8 inches in my driveway.” Why they’re in there I’ll never know, and I don’t know yet how to get them out.
I stabbed around some more. The iPhone would GPS me to my house, or the house in south Jersey, from my current location, the restaurant.
It would speak directions at me, and display maps on its screen while I proceeded.
“Okay, but what matters is it’s gotta pinpoint the exact location of that house in south Jersey,” I said.
“It does that,” she said.
“I’ve never been there before, and usually the GPS is in my head.”
Back-and-forth we went, me yelling, and my friend stroking.
But it was okay; she wasn’t useless.
What she ended up being was like my wife, deceased a while ago.
(This lady is also bereaved; her husband died.)
She, and my wife, would get me poking around; try this and see what happens.
I tried poking around a few days ago, but got fouled up. I need someone around to ask questions, or in my wife’s case hold my hand.
So now I guess I essentially have it figured out, but I needed that lady to hold my hand.
Then too, the iPhone GPS gives me a route I prefer to not use. For example, it directs me to an Interstate I don’t use because it dog-legs.
If I had it on as I started this trip, I’d drive it crazy recalculating.
• I eat dinner every Wednesday night with a group of other bereaved; although in this case it was Monday, because Wednesday-night would be Christmas-Eve, and the restaurant would be closed.
• My beloved wife of over 44 years died of cancer April 17th, 2012. I miss her dearly.
posted by BobbaLew at 2:01 PM
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