September 12, 2008 02:19 pm
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BY TOM LAVIS
TLAVIS@TRIBDEM.COM
My grandchildren were over for a visit last week when Crutch Crupnik and Junior Miller showed up at my house looking for information.
“Hey, kids, I need your pap for a few minutes, so you’ll have to wait to finish your game of hide-and-seek,” Crutch told the youngsters.
Without even saying hello, Junior asked me if I had a map of the Buffalo/Niagara Falls area. The guys were heading to Canada for a few days of fishing, just as they do almost every year.
About every other trip, they take a wrong turn when trying to find the correct exit for the Peace Bridge at Buffalo and end up on the American side of Niagara Falls or headed away from Canada and going toward Syracuse, N.Y.
“I thought Junior got a GPS last Christmas,” I said.
“That should take the guesswork out of the trip.”
Guess what? It hasn’t. Junior knows it’s a directional device, but he thinks GPS stands for Going Pretty Straight.
Apparently the unit the Miller family purchased is a high-end model with all the bells and whistles.
Crutch handed me the instruction book and challenged me to get the unit to work.
I started reading about integrated randomized greetings, high-quality navigation features, a wide-screen interface, which allows for more on-screen information, and additional details about upcoming intersections.
After digesting all my brain could handle, I gave the unit a try.
An annoying voice from the GPS kept telling me to make a U-turn and go back to the last intersection.
Giving Junior a GPS is like giving a caveman a microwave. Junior’s normal method of finding the right direction is to lick his forefinger and hold it into the wind.
“It’s an old Boy Scout trick,” Junior said. “The wind always blows from the west, so it’s like a built in compass.”
That from a guy who only advanced as far as Tenderfoot.
Apparently, the old finger trick doesn’t work as well when the wet digit is held out the window of a pickup truck traveling down an interstate at 60 mph.
I didn’t have time to figure out the GPS problem, so I went to my basement to rummage through the stack of maps that I have collected during the years.
I prefer individual state road maps because the printing is much larger than on the Rand McNally Road Atlas I bought in 1979.
Thumbing through the maps, I came across one from New York. It was an old Quaker State map I got from my Uncle Andy’s gas station before he sold it.
“That’s pretty old,” Junior said. “Some of the exits may have been changed since 1972.”
I unfolded the map to check.
“It looks pretty good, you should be OK,” I told him.
I handed Junior the map to refold.
I gave Crutch a wink, knowing Junior would be challenged by the task.
Mapmakers must have been the same people who invented the Rubik’s Cube. They use a combination of horizontal and vertical pleats to baffle those who use a map.
After watching Junior fumble with the map as if he were playing an accordion, he handed me the wrinkled mess and asked me to do it.
I refolded it, gave him the map and wished him luck on his trip, which is destined to become their own game of hide-and-seek.
“Thanks for the map,” Crutch said, “It sure beats a wet finger.”
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