Detours: Fun sidetrips along life's journey or a giant pain in the ass?

Two Saturdays ago, Lisa and I learned a very valuable lesson about technology.

She and I had tickets to see the touring cast of In The Heights in Chicago.  Despite the fact that we live all of 120 miles from this magical city, neither of us have a lot of experience driving to it.

So, we left Saturday afternoon, armed with Lisa's GPS, Heidi, and the directions I had printed out upon Lisa's request.

Well, it turns out Heidi wasn't feeling terribly accommodating that day.  For no reason at all, that Swiss slut would not even turn on.  So, while Lisa drove, I futzed around with Heidi.

In turn, we yelled supportive phrases and helpful suggestions to her so we might encourage her to do her job.

"Back-stabbing trailer trash!"
"Turn on, you miserable whore!"

Due to a major highway being closed and a massive detour that neither a working GPS or Mapquest directions could anticipate, we ended up in the blessed city of East Chicago, Indiana.  (It really is in Indiana.  I couldn't make this up if I tried.)

I don't know if you've ever found yourself in a small, dirty, industrial town in the middle of nowhere (that smells like a mixture of reheated country fried steak and ass), but that's what happened to us.

I was desperately trying to persuade Heidi to roust her Alpine ass and get us out of this urine-soaked hell hole.  When she finally graced us with her presence, it would be for 6 seconds and then she'd yawn and turn off.

Instead, we drove around aimlessly until we saw signs announcing the interstate.  ANY INTERSTATE.

I attempted to be helpful by announcing things like, "I swear to God we have been here before," to which Lisa would reply, "No, I think we're just on the other side of the power plant."

After successfully navigating our way to the Dan Ryan, we drove to Skokie.  Cause, you know, who doesn't want to visit mysterious and glamorous Skokie?

Alright, that was not done on purpose.  But luckily, I am a Cubs fan and know a few street names on the north side of Chicago.  Or at least I thought I did.

"Lawrence!"

"Do you know where we are?"

"No."


Five minutes later...


"Keystone!"

"Does that sound familiar?"

"Maybe..."


(To her credit, Lisa never once tried to kill me.)


Five minutes later...

"ADDISON!"

"You know that one?"

"YES!  IT'S WHERE THE CUBS PLAY!!!"

So, we followed street signs and made intuitive guesses about where we should go.  On the way, we saw something beautiful.

Sara: Look!  A Dunkin' Donuts and a Baskin Robbins in the same building!
Lisa: Let's live here.

After an amusing phone conversation with my dad and passing several Vietnamese delis, we made it to our destination with plenty of time.

The moral of this story?

Always have two or three back-ups for directions.  I don't care if it's an Atlas, a globe, a compass, the North Star or your knee that only aches when the wind comes in from the southeast.

Oh, and thank your lucky stars you don't live in East Chicago, Indiana.

Road trip edition

On Thursday, I drove from North Carolina to northern Ohio to visit my lovely friends, Cara and Mike.

I drove through 5 states in 7 hours.

Here's what I learned:

The mountains in NC are gorgeous in the Fall, but all that fog makes my ass twitch.



Tennessee looks a lot like NC and people seem to think headlights are superfluous when it is overcast and raining.

Radar detectors are illegal in Virginia. Bummer.




West Virginia is a lot bigger than it looks, and most was unnecessary.

Ohio doesn't look as much like Indiana as I'd hoped.

I actually made pretty excellent time getting to Ohio. It would've been outstanding, but Louise and I got into a fight around Canton and I had to pull over so we could throw down.

Tomorrow, I head back to the High Country of North Carolina. Even though I love my friends and the Midwest in general, I'm happy to get back to Boone and the 29 degree weather that surely awaits me.

29 degrees.



Ass.