Sunday, August 12, 2007

said the man in the moon

"what's with you men? would hair stop growing on your chest if you asked directions somewhere?"
- erma bombeck (u.s. humorist, 1927-1996)

i am the navigator in the family, by necessity and by choice, and i excel at it, if i do say so myself. hand me a map - a good map, i do like michelin - and tell me where we need to be, and i'll get us there, with very little fuss and, if possible, some scenic - read photogenic - detours along the way.
a map, though, is essential.
when my husband and i picked up our rental car at toronto airport in may, after a
flight that had been delayed a tiresome eight hours, it was past midnight, and we had no map, just a little piece of paper with a few hastily scrawled directions, and those directions (if i remember correctly, they went something like this: hwy.401, hwy.115, cr 21, pontypool rd.) were somehow supposed to get us from toronto to the little hamlet of millbrook (middle of nowhere) ontario.
in the dark.
i was aghast. "no lefts? no rights? no straight aheads? how on earth am i supposed to work with this?" i demanded.
my husband shrugged apologetically; he'd been short of time in the panic of packing, and, to be fair, he'd counted on a drive in the bright light of daytime.
two hours later - we'd been awake for 26 hours at this point, and were as close to a domestic rift as only ikea, as a rule, can nudge us - he grumbled: "tsk! we've gone too far!
i can see the lights of peterborough!"
i bit my lip, about to tell him precisely what he could do with his poor excuse for
a travel planner, and at that very moment a pretty sign announced our entry into exactly the historic little town we were heading for.
within moments, even as we hugged our sister-in-law in the glow of her veranda,
even as we professed our longing for a cup of tea before turning in, the terrible tale of our trip shifted into positivity, became an anecdote for times to come, became a story-with-a-smile.
it's the way of the world.


  1. Even when you were 14, my dear daughter, you had the eagle-eye and speed-reading capability (and nerves of steel!) of a pro, remembering how you guided me through downtown Madrid on an urgent shopping trip from the campground.
    love, your mom

  2. haha, Lynn the navigator. Funny. I need a haircut.
    Where is this place?

  3. As again an amusing little story with an illustration which is just short of genius. Well done!

  4. Men must never ask directions Lynn! Never...we would rather drive 100 miles extra than ask! Love the photo by the way