I believe there are two types of men on this earth: those who
stop and ask for directions and those who don’t. I’m lucky. Harry
is willing to stop and ask for directions when lost, but not
because he wants to do it. It’s because he’s afraid I’ll nag him so
much that he will spontaneously combust on a car trip in the middle
of nowhere.
I believe there are two types of men on this earth: those who stop and ask for directions and those who don’t. I’m lucky. Harry is willing to stop and ask for directions when lost, but not because he wants to do it. It’s because he’s afraid I’ll nag him so much that he will spontaneously combust on a car trip in the middle of nowhere.
My dad, on the other hand, isn’t afraid. He spent years on the road with his dad – my grandfather – while his mother nagged and nobody combusted. And that’s why my dad has never stopped to ask for directions while
on a road trip. And that’s unfortunate, because my dad has a very real disease that is serious and, in some cases, life-threatening.
That’s right. My dad suffers from Sunday Drive Syndrome, perhaps better known as SDS.
It is estimated by the Center for Disease Control that three out of four men suffer from SDS. These men simply take their families out in the car and spend an entire day driving to absolutely nowhere and getting lost in the process. And because most men suffering from SDS also refuse to stop and ask for directions, there are entire families in the world who are still on a Sunday drive that started in 1972.
Fortunately for all the sufferers and their families, there is a new device out called a Global Positioning System (GPS). Researchers aren’t certain, but they hope that GPS can save families. And last Sunday, I got to find out if it was true.
My mom, Junior, Harry and I were in the truck with my dad. Dad said we were going to IHOP for pancakes, but when he turned the wrong way and got on the freeway, I could see the fear in my mother’s eyes. And I knew. I knew that we were really going on a Sunday drive.
At first, I was afraid. I sat frozen in my seat, wondering where this would lead. And then a female voice said, “Exit right in 0.8 miles.” And that voice wasn’t my mom. It was the voice of the GPS.
So we exited the freeway. And everyone in the car was happy – until the voice said, “Turn left to CA 99 in 1.2 miles.” And after traveling 1.2 miles dad got on the freeway, because honestly, when you have SDS, you really do have to do what the voices tell you to do or you could end up in Canada. And you only wanted blueberry pancakes from the IHOP down the street.
Trust me. I speak from experience. We spent two years in British Columbia when I was a child. We were lucky to find our way back to California alive.
Anyway, after we got on the freeway, the voice said, “Exit right in 0.6 miles.” So dad exited. And the voice said, “Turn left to CA 99 in 0.2 miles.” And dad got back on the freeway. And the voice came on again and said, “Turn left onto CA 99 in 0.0 miles.” So dad stayed on the freeway.
And the voice said, “Turn left onto CA 99 in 0.0 miles.” So dad did nothing. And that’s when the voice got mad. It yelled, “Turn left onto CA 99 NOW.” And dad yelled back at it that he was already on the darned freeway and if the GPS didn’t shut up he’d disconnect the darned thing. Only he didn’t say “darned,” and I had to cover Junior’s ears. But despite dad’s threats, the GPS wouldn’t stop. It kept screaming about the freeway.
I started having flashbacks to horrifying Sunday drives when I was a child. So I started screaming too. And then Junior started screaming because I was screaming. And then my mom called the GPS an idiot and told my dad she would make him spontaneously combust if he didn’t turn the GPS off RIGHT THIS INSTANT.
And then Harry saved us all. He unplugged the GPS.
For a while, all was silent in the car. So Harry plugged the GPS back in. The machine whirred, and maps flashed on its screen. And then the voice said, gently, “Destination, please.”
And dad said, “Home.” And we cheered. Because our family was saved from an excruciating Sunday drive to nowhere thanks to GPS and to my husband. And we didn’t even care that we didn’t get blueberry pancakes. We were just thankful to still be in California.
