I've recently come to the realization that my Dad has an amusing habit. He loves to give directions. Driving directions, I mean. Well, he likes to give directions about any and everything (can you say control freak? Thank goodness I didn't turn out that way. ahem.) but in this I mean driving directions.
Recently I was inquiring about a back way to get to the Wal-Mart in a nearby town. And he was off "Well, you go down there and take a right and you go a few miles and then when you get to Sandy Cross you take a right at that four way stop. Then when you get to Pocataligo you'll veer off to the left and that will bring you out over there by John Smith's house. Do you know John Smith? Well, anyway, if you keep going about a mile down the road you'll see the Wal-Mart."
Now keep in mind Sandy Cross and Pocataligo are just communities. And that there are no signs for these communities. So, if you don't know where you're going in the first place, there is no way in heck to know if you're in Pocataligo or not. Also? I don't know John Smith and I have no idea where he lives.
When it gets really bad is when he starts telling you about places in other states using actual highway numbers as though I have any idea what he's talking about. He and my stepmother just returned on Sunday night from Idaho and we stopped by last night to say hello. Mr. Daddy lived in Idaho years ago so they started talking about some of the little towns. And before we knew what was happening, he started in.
"You know, Highway 33 comes out of Driggs and heads over to Smithtown. And Highway 32 cuts off that and heads over to Funkytown. We drove over that and went up over and around Boogerville and then took Hwy. 145 over to Flattville." And he's not even telling us about anything they SAW on the way. Just about the roads they took.
Obviously, Smithtown, Funkytown, Boogerville, and Flattville aren't real town names (at least not to my knowledge), but once he starts in my eyes just kind of glaze over. I kind of forgave him last night because there is a remote possibility that Mr. Daddy knew what in the heck he was talking about, but he does it all the time, even in places that I know that neither Mr. Daddy or I have ever been.
I don't know what the deal is. I didn't live with my dad growing up so I don't know if he's always been this way. He used to be the commissioner of roads in our county, so maybe that has something to do with it. Maybe he's just a directional savant. It's just too bad that I can't shrink him down and put him on my dashboard -- I'd have my own Dashboard Daddy GPS! Kind of like Tiny Elvis!
Mixed Bag
12 years ago
Posts
8 comments:
Oh, I've heard your Dad do that! Your brother always seems like he knows exactly what your Dad is talking about, though, so I've never questioned it. And, all my relatives who live in the country do the same thing. "Go down the road about a mile and take a left at the old Smith place, then a right just past Whiskey Creek..."
Too funny! If he can give me directions to Funkytown, that would be AWESOME!
Maybe it's a generational thing - before the days of Rand-McNally road maps and GPS. Menfolk had to rely on their WITS back then! haha!
You get to Funkytown by taking Route 29 just after Margaritaville. That's probably what my Dad would say because he loves to talk roads and no matter where in the country you are going, he tells you to take Route 29.
That is hilarious. I think my dad may be leading a secret life because seriously, this sounds just like him.
But then he rambles on too about how many people we are related to and where they all live and yadda, yadda.
Funny story!
I'm sorry, you lost me in Flatville. I knew LANDMARKS. Big tree, little rock, whatever.
let's chalk it up to the whole commissioner of roads thing!
I give "woman directions", you know, the kind where you establish that you & the other person are thinking about the same area, and then I'm all, so okay you make a left about 2 lights after the McDonald's on the right that never has any good toys....
I've used my Daddy-GPS before when I was lost near Comisky Park in Chicago (read=really bad neighborhood...Cabrini Green! "Candyman" movie fame). But my dad knew exactly where I was over the phone and got me out of there and onto the highway. Weird how men, especially dads, seem to have these maps in their heads...
oh man, my grandfather does the same thing but uses actual directions like North, South, East, West. Last time I checked I didn't regularly carry a compass so I'm gonna need directions like RIGHT and LEFT! I mean really, I'm doin' good if I get those right.
Post a Comment