GPS Leads Way to Perfect Relationship

Jon Kaufman
Jon Kaufman

The relationship between human and machine is a delicate one.  Regardless of the contraption, people tend to bond with inanimate objects, often assigning names and mortal characteristics to the widgets which spur their devotion.

Until recently I had never developed an affinity for a daily tool which aided lifestyle.  Never have I grown an attachment for an automotive vehicle; in fact, my wife Janet refers to me as “Jon the Car Killer.”  Over the years I have managed to obliterate every car I have ever owned, destroying engines, transmissions, electrical systems and anything else that might turn bad under the hood.  To me my car is a machine that transports me from point A to point B, a soulless, nameless future victim of my neglect.  Add the well known fact that I can’t take a spin around the block with losing my way and you can understand my hesitance to personalize anything with four wheels.

All that changed when Carmen entered into my life.

Carmen was my very first GPS system, a benevolent chaperone who gently guided me to places I would have never dreamed of reaching on my own.  My feelings for Carmen were both passionate and genuine and, over time, blossomed into an emotion even more beautiful, even more rare – dare I say it, could it be love?

During our salad days, Carmen and I would glide through the countryside, bereft of worry, reaching each destination without incident.  Then, as suddenly as our affair began, things began to sour.  Carmen became aloof, often failing to remind me of critical turns in the road, propelling my being into the unknown with only my wits to guide me (i.e. unarmed).  One afternoon, during a routine drive, Carmen experienced a kind of latitudinal breakdown, hysterically repeating “RECALCULATING, RECALCULATING, RECALCULATING, RECALCULATING,” until I nearly propelled us both off of Windy Gap Mountain!  Something was amiss. Had we gotten too close too fast?  Could there be someone else?

Returning home, I engaged Carmen in the driveway and suggested that it might be best if we saw other devices.  Following the usual screaming and tears that follow any break-up (my eyes are still a tad puffy), I decided to pass Carmen along to my son Will, who, much to his dismay, had inherited the “Where the heck am I, and how did I get here?” gene which has plagued countless generations of Kaufman males. Clearly, it was time for the two of us to move on.

Like many lonely hearts, I sought refuge on the Internet, scouring sites for a new travel mate.  Still reeling from my ill fated romance, I carefully browsed through the electronics sites searching for “Ms. Right-turn.”  Disheartened and ready to accept a life of solitary travel, I nearly called it quits, deciding to check one more site before turning in for the evening.

That is when I first saw her.  Sleek, bright, dressed in 3-D color, and on sale, the Garmin Nuvi 205 was a smoldering sliver of satellite technology that set my bruised heart aflutter.  Immediately I placed the order and when my new device arrived, I could barely recall Carmen’s name.  I felt ashamed, yet strangely excited.  Once the batteries were fully charged, I began to explore my new companion’s menus and features.

In addition to the usual voices available on all GPS systems, I discovered that my Nuvi could also accept downloads featuring celebrity and other voices.  Launching my browser (not a euphemism), I rushed into a site and purchased the voices of Arnold Schwarzenegger, Yoda, Stewie from “The Family Guy” and a female voice named Jill.

Funny at first, the sitting Governor of California, became tiresome, rudely calling me a “punk” each time I failed to turn at the proper time.  Yoda was difficult to understand due to his inverted sentence style, scolding me with the phrase “Turn you did not, lost we are!”  Similar to his character on the show Stewie is just a mean little cuss who had no patience for my on-road bungling as well, demanding “DO AS I SAY, YOU IDIOT!” with every wrong turn.  If I wanted to hear that kind of debasement I would have brought Will along for the ride.

This brings me to Jill.  Jill was one of two female voices available and, candidly, I am more used to a woman yelling at me in the car than an action movie star, a wrinkly old puppet or an ill-tempered talking baby.  The other female option was named Sadera, advertised as Jill’s hot-blooded sister.  Sadera’s profile carried a red stamp touting “illicit material,” along with provocative photo. Given my struggles with navigation, I decided to pass on Sadera and forgo any possible distractions she might inspire.  Jill was my girl.

Immediately, Jill and I were a perfect match.  Her soft voice eased me through every inter-section and, when I began to wander aimlessly, Jill would quietly purr “Baby, did you lose you way again?  Let’s get you moving in the right direction.”

Finally a machine that understands me! Recovered from my brief assignation with Carmen, I have undeniably found my wayfaring soul mate. It was love at first byte.

By Jon Kaufman
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