Aug 25, 2007

Go West (Or Whatever Direction)!

The herb society meeting was beginning in several minutes, I was the guest speaker and not only was I stuck in traffic, but I was lost.

I might mention here that I have been accused of having a terrible sense of direction. Okay, it is true that I have become lost returning home from the grocery store several blocks away. However, my mind was on other things (during most of those hundred or so incidents) and I missed the street to my house. Before I knew it, I was several miles across town in some unfamiliar neighborhood.

I have also been accused of giving bad directions. Yes, a large number of people I have directed to my home have ended up dozens of miles away, hopelessly lost. Nevertheless, that’s not because of my giving them bad directions. Instead, it points to their incapacity to follow simple instructions.

In addition, it is true that, if I can’t see the sun, I have absolutely no idea which direction I am heading. But what am I, a homing pigeon?

Nevertheless, I finally found the community center where the meeting was to take place. I did place several frantic calls (thank the powers that be for cell phones) to my long-suffering spouse, but that wasn’t for directions, but was more for emotional support.

“I don’t know where the hell I am,” I softly explained through the phone.

“Stop and take a deep breath. Can you see a name on a street?” she asked in her most soothing voice (the one she reserves for those few people having psychotic episodes or for small children who have placed their heads in the mouths of large dogs.)

“Street? What street. I’m in some parking lot,” I said sanely.

“Can you see any stores in the parking lot? Any businesses?” she asked with the patience of a 911 operator.

“Yeah,” I said, as I describe the large shopping center, ablaze with lights and the name of the site atop a 100-foot pole.

“Look to your left,” she said, which I did. The community center had appeared to my left.

“That wasn’t there before,” I shouted over the phone. “Somebody’s manipulating the time-space continuum,” I say.

“Make sure you stop at the grocery for milk on your way home, dear,” she said lovingly. “Home is the second street on your left just west of the grocery store.”

West? West? It was dark outside and she wanted me to go west. Not only can I not see the sun, I can’t even see the North Star. Of course, if I actually knew how to locate the North Star, finding “west” might be an easier task.