Footprints

by Budd Glassberg

Reprinted with permission from the Zionsville Times Sentinel on April 9, 2008

Otherwise Known as Sheila the Great

She is constantly checking maps. She tirelessly works non-stop. I have made hundreds of inquiries to Sheila and I have only seen her make one mistake. Sheila guided my daughter Elle and I through the back-roads of Mississippi to help us meet up with cross-country traveler Glen Turner. Then she took us right to my brother Bill’s doorstep in Dallas. She steered us to my sister Betsy’s condo in Scottsdale and to five different spring training ballparks without a hitch.

Sheila’s last name is Garmin. She is a portable GPS unit that plugs into my cigarette lighter. I must say that she is one impressive female. Despite having a pleasant voice, Sheila can sometimes be a nag with her, “Turn right here,” commands that she often repeats several times in a row. I’ve also noted that she sometimes gets testy when I do not obey her orders. If I go straight, clearly disobeying her directions to turn, she responds with, “Recalculating.” If I continue to defy her, I can hear a bit of irritation in her voice as she once again tells me that she is recalculating my route. A third time and I hear venom in her tone.

Sheila has an obsessive preference for interstate highways. It is one area where she and I butt heads. Whenever possible, I like to take scenic two lane roads. The last two days of spring training, Allan Rachles and I were in Las Vegas to see the Cubs play the Mariners. We decided to take the “strip” to Cashman Field. Sheila could not see the sense in that. With every block she pleaded with us to turn left and get on the interstate. She knew the quickest way to get to the ballpark and refused to give in. She forced my hand, so I went into her system tools and checked the “avoid highways” box. It gave Allan and I a more peaceful ride to the game.

After the game (which the Cubs won 4-2), I dropped Allan off at his hotel and began my solo drive up to Lake Tahoe. I forgot to change Sheila’s system back to “highways allowed” and she took me on a route many miles out of the way. Realizing that I was heading south instead of northwest, I changed her system back to allow highways. Sheila then turned me around and brought me on a spectacular road from Vegas to Bishop, California where I spent the night in a motel that she recommended. She was trying to teach me a lesson, “Do not mess with Sheila the Great.”

The next morning I left Bishop early to head to Tahoe. I needed to meet my two friends from California and my daughter, Josie there at noon. One very nice task that Sheila performs is showing me my expected arrival time at my destination. She has not yet grasped, after several thousand miles, that I prefer to drive at a slower speed than the limit. Despite her insisting that I would arrive at 11 AM, I knew she was being too optimistic. I arrived at our cabin shortly before noon. As has been my experience, whenever people are meeting somewhere coming from different directions, the person coming the furthest will arrive first followed by the next longest distance and so forth with the person coming the shortest distance arriving last. Ten minutes after I got to Tahoe (traveling 3,100 miles) , Jeff and Stacey completed their 250 mile ride. Josie, who needed to go 45 miles arrived a half hour later. We all had a fabulous time there.

Josie left early the next morning for work in Reno. Jeff, Stacey and I remained in Tahoe until dinner time. After saying our goodbyes, Sheila guided me to Reno to meet up again with Josie. Despite the fact that I had never been to that city, Sheila took me to Josie’s front door without a hitch. After two days with my older daughter in which I met her new friends, attended a geology class she taught to middle school girls and participated in a Bikram Yoga class (that nearly did me in), Sheila brought me to the youth hostel in Salt Lake City where I am spending the night and now writing this column.

I find that I am now pretty dependent on Sheila. She has been a steady companion on the road. I have yet to get out my maps on this trip. Whenever I yearn to hear a human voice, all I need to do is press her “next turn” feature and she will tell me all about that turn coming up. That makes solo driving less lonely.

Like most guys, I do not like stopping and asking directions. My wife Maureen and I have differing thoughts on that particular behavior of mine. Sheila has made that a moot point. Not only is she great at what she is programmed to do, but Sheila moonlights in the area of conflict resolution.

Budd Glassberg is a 23 year resident of Zionsville who works and volunteers in the community. Visit www.runz.com for reprints of all his columns. You can reach him by email at budd@runz.com.