It’s been a few days since I’ve posted and I apologize for my absence. It took a little longer than normal to get to my destination on Friday which completely threw off my writing schedule for the weekend. I guess that’s what I get for listening to the directions of anyone over the age of 50 who still insists on using the cardinal directions of North, East, South and West to tell me how to get from here to there.
Old Person: Just head East on 42nd and turn right just North of downtown. We’re in the Southwest building, on the second floor, just West of the vending machines.
Me: Oh, great! Just let me find my compass. Hopefully I didn’t leave it on the Mayflower with my musket and gunpowder.
Oh no you di'ent!
In grade school, I was taught to remember the order of the cardinal directions on a map by using clever mnemonic devices like “Never Eat Shredded Wheat” or “Never Electrocute Sam Waterston,” but how does that help when you’re out on the road searching for your great uncle’s house? You have to at least be able to identify one of the directions on your own before you can remember to “Nail Every Sexy Waitress.”
I suppose I could try to locate the North Star like some sort of Viking, but I never learned anything about Astronomy. In college, that class always filled up before anything else so I was stuck learning about sedimentary rocks and shit from some grumpy old professor who must’ve realized a long time ago that nobody takes Geology because they actually want to. I don’t know, maybe I’ve just become too reliant on GPS and Mapquest, but it sure seems a helluva lot more efficient than using some archaic conversion formula using the stars and the wind just to figure out where I need to be for my annual eye exam.
And judging by my sundial, I’m already running late.
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