Steven Rice
GOD PLEASE STEER

For Christmass, I received a GPS thingamajig that I can place in my car and never again need a map.

For the uninitiated, GPS stands for Global Positioning System, and that little box you stick to your windshield basically chats with a satellite and tells you what road you're on and how to get to whatever destination you wish.

After joyfully tearing off the wrapping paper on such a Jetsons-Age piece of technology, I immediately threw away all of my maps. Why keep them? I have a three inch

box on my dash that not only tells me where

I am and where I'm going, but how to get there (it's very existential).

Setting the device up was also an experience. My GPS box gave me a choice between a male voice to audibly give directions or a female voice. That was a no-brainer. I have a mother, a wife, and daughter, so I'm used to female voices giving me instructions and telling me how to drive. At the very least I can now have someone pleasantly saying "Please turn around." I wonder if the next upgrade will include sighing and the rolling of eyes.

As wonderful as the GPS system is and as grateful as I am to have it (thanks, Mom), I have lately found myself in places that look nothing like my desired destination. In fact, I have been in so many places that look nothing like the address I punched in the box that I'm beginning to think that GPS does not stand for Global Positioning System but for God Please Steer - because you may certainly be taking a leap of faith when you trust that friendly voice to get you where you are going.

Last Friday I had a meeting in Dublin. Now, I've been to Dublin before. I've even been to the same location before, but what need do I have to remember? What need do I have for maps? What need do I even have to read road signs? None, I tell you, none!

I diligently entered the address of my meeting and I faithfully turned when Gertrude (I've named her) told me to turn. Even though I didn't think I was going in the right direction, I obeyed.

When I arrived at my destination, I was starring at a dirt road and two goats (no kidding). I was not in Kansas anymore nor was I at the downtown church that was hosting the meeting. So I cut Gertrude off and sheepishly drove to the nearest gas station and bought a map. GPS. Global Positioning System. God Please Steer. Goats Passing (in the) Street.