Back Home, No Thanks to GPS Lady

An amazing week in NYC and Asbury Park came to a terrific end over the weekend with an afternoon chatting with guitar hero Sonny Kenn at his studio;  night seeing John Eddie at the Stone Pony (turned into a late, beery, hoarse-voice-in-the-morning kind of night) and then a wonderful morning touring Freehold with town historian/writer/walking civic resource, Kevin Coyne.

follow the jump for a real screed about my break-up with the GPS lady….

Then my drive up the parkway to NYC and JFK got a bit hairy when GPS lady opted against the sensible route past the city (e.g,, through Staten Island and over the Verrazzano) and I was too cowed to just make the turn myself and let her grumble about recalculating, etc. etc. So she was directing me toward the GW Bridge, then freaked when the traffic got bad and pointed me through the Holland Tunnel and then across 42nd street…..oh yes, no traffic in MIDTOWN MANHATTAN, is there????….then everything got even MORE screwy the closer we got to the airport. Don’t ask, but by the end we were like husband wife, talking past each other, screaming at each other….or at least me screaming at her while she just repeated, maddeningly, that she was recalculating, recalculating, recalculating. Her whole life, apparently, and the decisions that led her into the car with me. I don’t like to sound all misogynistic, particularly when it comes to machinery. But GPS lady struck me, ultimately, like the icy kind of chick I’ve spent my life trying to avoid. And not just b/c she obviously thinks I’m a dimwit loser.

Tired now. Time to sack out and try to get back in the time zone. More “Lost” bloggage tomorrow, hip-hip-hooray.

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