When I was (considerably) younger than I am now I had a well-developed sense of direction, at least as I recall. As I've aged I've concluded that like so much else that has happened to me, the older I get the better I was and a sense of direction, together with humor, intelligence, and manners, have all gone the way of the dodo.
I'm the kind of person who almost arrived in New York City while driving from my home in Norwich to Derby and to this day I have no idea how that happened. And I now have Google Maps and I have no idea how many other aids to assist me and yet I still manage to adapt and overcome while getting loster faster than anyone you will ever know.
Here's the sad part among all of the sadness: I never think I'm lost. To the frustration (and sometimes anger as well) of my wife who is a brilliant navigator, I'm indifferent to her entreaties as we drive along especially because I know I'm right, no matter what she says. And now, as it turns out, I have science on my side when I'm being obdurate.
Or, as I tell my spouse in a vain attempt to make her feel better after finally conceding I am well and truly lost, 'but we're making great time."
-bill kenny
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