Charlotte Latvala: Listening to Lady GPS
“Stay in the middle lane. At the next lights, turn left.”
The voice is cool, calm and very British.
“Turn right into the car park. Then, your destination is on the left.”
Ah, Lady GPS. She is a cross between Julie Andrews, Angela Lansbury and Emily Blunt. She pronounces Canton, Ohio, “Can-TON” and Ohio River Boulevard “BOO-lee-vard.” She is sweet and precise and just a tiny bit intimidating – the Mary Poppins of the highway, ready to lend a cheerful note of optimism or a firmly worded (yet kind) reprimand to any drive.
She knows things outside the purview of regular human beings. She has become my guide to the world. My boon companion. My friend.
“Do we really need the GPS on?” said my husband the other day, as we pulled out of the driveway and Lady GPS began her polite diatribe.
“Proceed to the route. Proceed to the route. Proceed to the route.”
“Surely you know the way by now?” he continued.
I do know the way. We were driving 90 minutes to see our daughter. I’ve spent countless hours traveling back and forth to Ohio, where our younger daughter goes to college and performs in summer theater. So yes, I know the way quite well. But I didn’t see what that had to do with anything.
“Does she bother you?” I asked, trying to proceed to the route.
“Not really. I just wonder why you need her.”
Why do I need her? Well, at first, I needed her like any other guide. I drive many places by myself, and I’m terrible with directions. I looked to her the way Lewis and Clark looked to Sacagawea for guidance, the way Bertie Wooster looked to Jeeves for wisdom in sticky situations.
Because after a while, I came to rely on her for more than mere directions. The more sophisticated Lady GPS gets, the more knowledge she imparts. I’ve grown accustomed to noting her ETA predictions (astonishingly precise!) and relying on her to tell me about any speed checks ahead. She alerts me to any major traffic snags, and thoughtfully tells me how long they may last.
But truth be told, it’s her loyal companionship more than anything else that makes me love and rely on Lady GPS. Over the past few years, she’s become more like a friend than a trusted employee. I turn to her even if I’m driving to Costco or taking a short trip into the city. I relish hearing her soothing voice. It makes me feel less alone in the car, and, likewise, in the world.
“I’m starting to wonder about your sanity,” my husband went on.
“What’s to wonder?” I said. “I have a complex and richly rewarding relationship with Lady GPS. Now please, I think she’s trying to tell me something.”
She was telling me to make an illegal left-hand turn across oncoming traffic. And I felt the first crack in our beautiful friendship as I disobeyed.
Charlotte is a columnist for The Times. You can reach her at [email protected].
This article originally appeared on Beaver County Times: Listening to Lady GPS