Directional Dialogue

In The Good Life state of Nebraska, I seem to be directionally deprived. I can take the winding, hilly, swampy, wooded roads of Wisconsin that make absolutely no sense (what's the difference between County Rd. S and County Rd. SS?) but when it comes to the square mile grid road system of Nebraska, I need a GPS and a compass and a cell phone.

Today was no different.

Toby asked me if I wanted to go out for supper tonight with him. That was not even a question in my book. But since he seemed to be waiting for an answer, I said yes. He said I'd have to pick him up from work. And since I'd be skipping the entire hassle of making supper just to pick my husband up from work, no big deal, right?

Wrong.

There are two things Toby and I do not agree on or see eye to eye on.

Number 1: (we have the next 60 years to figure out what this one is.)

Number 2: Directions.

We just don't agree on directions. When he gives me driving directions, they make no sense. When I tell him that he is not making sense, he doesn't agree with me.

I asked him for the directions to his work site today. Suddenly, peeling potatoes and making fresh french bread and stuffing a chicken seemed so much easier than they normally do.

He told me he was working in Bennett. And, thanks to http://www.craigslist.com/, I know where Bennett is. Our backyard fire pit comes from Bennett, NE.

So, if he is working in Bennett, this should be easy, right? Wrong.

"The road that goes through Bennett, take that straight south out of town," he said.

Okay, that was a mistake right there. We have no compass in our van. I do not know which direction south-out-of-Bennett is.

"Would that be hwy 2?" I asked him, trying to verify the correct road.

"No," he said. "Here's what you do..." he began his directions. "Take Hwy 77 to Roka Road which it actually has an exit off the highway. Take that road until it "t's" -- it should be just a short way down. Turn right and then turn left on that road and go six or seven miles. Then there's a high way -- we're not sure if it's 43 or 143 but it's a paved road and you turn east there. Your goal is to keep going east. There's a road... uh... 148th street and the highway is a mile past there. Just stay on the paved road. Watch for the Douglas sign which will tell you to turn left but turn right towards Stagecoach. The house number is xxxxx -- which actually honey, if you look up Google maps, you can see a picture of the guy's house."

"Um, yeah.... uh, okay, uh, well...ummmm..." I said, trying to decipher the ink I had just transcribed from the telephone onto a piece of paper.

"That's it. That's how you get here," he told me, as if that clarified everything on my scribbled piece of paper.

"Okay, so when I turn off hwy 77," I began the direction re-run, "Which way do I turn?"

"The road "t's" a short way down and you turn right there," he replied, completely not answering my question.

I tried again, "Yeah, but off of Hwy 77, which way do I t...."

He cut me off and answered, "Oh, you go east there -- you want to keep going east."

"Yeah, but east is which direction?" I needed clarification.

"Uh, that would be left, honey," he answered, in a tone that said I should know that already.

"Okay so then after I turn on Roka road and I go left, the road t's and I turn right, which road am I turning on when I turn left again and how far down is that?" I asked, trying to make as much understandable sense as I could.

"Well, you just stay on Roka road and follow that," was his answer.

"So that road I turn left on shortly after the Roka road "t's" is actually Roka road again?" I clarified.

"Yeah, I think so. Something like that. It's like a quarter-of-a-mile or a half-a-mile down that road before you turn left," he answered.

(Meanwhile I'm creating a mental image in my head trying to get a aerial view of the road system at this intersection.)

"Okay, gotcha," I responded.

"Now this highway," I began into another chapter of this complicated directional dialogue, "is it highway 43 or highway 143 or highway 148?"

"I. Don't. Know. Honey," he answered, enunciating every word.

"Okay so then where does this 148 number come in?" I asked, wondering if this was another one of his land marks.

"The Unknown Highway is a mile past 148th street," he explained. "Just stay on the paved roads," he repeated again.

And then I remembered that when Toby gives directions, he uses more land marks than street intersections. He uses land marks found 2 miles down the road behind a paint peeling barn sitting on a rusty tractor. He uses houses 3 blocks over to give you a reference point to the house he is working on that day. He uses everything as landmarks. And he always says north, south east and west instead of left or right..."That tractor west of the barn is facing south of where the house on the east side of the street sits."

I looked again at my directions, trying to make sense of them.

"You know honey," Toby began, "If you would just write it down as I tell you, then you'd have the directions." (as if I hadn't thought of that already...)

I almost choked. "Uh, honey? I write them down completely as you tell me but that doesn't help at all... believe me."

As I hung up, I was trying to figure out what Bennett Nebraska had to do with this job site since it was never mentioned in the directions and how much driving time should be allowed to get to this place and how would I know if I was on the right road that he had no name for but I was supposed to drive it for 6-7 miles. I noticed the screen on my phone and saw that it took him 10 minutes to tell me how to get to this place and I still had no clue how to get there.

And then I decided that since we agree on pretty much everything besides directions, I would do my part and eliminate that one thing. Of course I can't technically agree with him on this because if I don't understand how to get to a place he is directing me to, no amount of agreeableness will get me to his job site, unfortunately.

I'll eliminate the problem altogether, I decided. I came up with two solutions:

Number 1: Never go to the job site

Number 2: Get a GPS

Number 1 is really not an option. I mean, I am a loving wife, he is a loving husband. We like to see each other and spend time together like loving couples do. Especially if it involves eating supper out.

Now, if I get the GPS, I will not tell him I have it because I want him to still give me directions. I'll write them down, say, "Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, Okay perfect. Those directions are great. We should have no problem getting there. You are so smart honey" the whole way through his complicated directional dialogue.

So, yeah. This GPS will be an investment in our marriage. A tool to keep communication open. A program to unify our direction conversations. A practical system to keep us on the same road (pun). A time saving technique because he won't have to spend 10 minutes telling me how to get to a job site that will take probably only 20 minutes to drive. A way to help us understand each other better.

And we will never have to disagree again because there won't be anything to argue about since the GPS will be responsible for me getting lost. Not my charming, loving, smart husband who I trust with all my heart and who was so kind to take me on a date... if I can find him sitting on a roof out in the middle of a cornfield somewhere in Nebraska.

Surviving The Good Life State

The other day, my hunny swung by home before heading out the door again to do an estimate.

"It's on 48th and Adams so I shouldn't be too long," were his words as he headed out the door.

I contemplated 48th and Adams. The particular roof he was estimating could be on any one of the four corners of that intersection. Even more confusing was the fact that the roof he'd be on, could be anywhere in the vicinity of 48th and Adams.

That's one thing I learned after I moved to Nebraska. Every building you go to is on an intersection. Every address is like a 48th and Adams: everybody lives on a corner.

Or so you'd think by the directions they give.

I used to imagine whole sections of a city blocks, vacant and bare of buildings. But the corners would pile high with Walmarts, Targets, Gas Stations and Starbucks.

For instance, Target is on 48th and O street and so is TJ Maxx even though they're both about a block away from each other and TJ Maxx is a good 2-3 blocks away from O street.

When people ask us where we live, we tell them, "On 19th and Superior."

The truth is, we live on 20th street and not at all on a corner. But, if you said 20th street, they wouldn't know where you lived. So, you have to lie in order to truthfully tell them where you honestly live.

If you asked anybody around here how to get to their house, they'd tell you a crossroads or intersection. But, when you'd get to their house you'd find that you probably never even saw the crossroads or intersection let alone had to drive through it to find their home. And they usually never live right at the intersection.

Another thing I learned and I hope to put into the "Moving To Nebraska Survival Guide For Dummies" is the absolute need to install a compass in your car. They really should make that as necessary as license plates.

The risk of becoming lost and stranded and possibly causing your very own death which in turn would cause grief and sadness for your loved ones because of your death but grief would also be caused by your funeral because of the hacked up funeral bills that your family would have to pay all because your vehicle was not equipped with a life saving compass, you should get a ticket for not having a compass.

I would go as far to suggest that maybe you should even wear one on your wrist like you would a watch. Believe me, it would be more worth it for you to actually sell your watch and use the money to invest into a wrist size compass because you would use the compass way more than you would ever use a watch.

Plus, many banks and other business will keep you well informed of the time and temperature as you drive around. But, no one will inform you of the direction you're going. Unless you happen to spot a weather vein on the top of a barn.

While using your compass, learn your directions. Everything is North, South, East and West. Left and right are good to know if you visit the other 47 continental states but they will do you no good around here. People don't know how to use left and right. It's like the city of Ninevah in Jonah's time -- folks can't tell their left hand from their right. It's really sad.

If you get directions to go anywhere, you would be told whether their house or building is on the North, South, West or East side of the street. NEVER left of right.

If they mentioned the garbage cans on the side of their driveway as landmark for you to use, they wouldn't merely say, "side of driveway." Instead, they would give you the exact direction from the driveway that the garbage cans stood. So, make sure your compass is working.

A few days after Toby did the estimate on 48th and Adams, we happened to drive past that location. He pointed the roof out to me and sure enough, the house was several doors down from the exact intersection of 48th and Adams.

It makes me wonder how he found the exact house due to the fact that many homes in that area needed roofs and it wasn't like there was a sign out front that read, "roof repair needed here at 48th and Adams."

My final conclusion is that the home owner probably said he was so many houses North, South, East or West of 48th and Adams. And being a loyal Nebraskan, Toby knew the exact location.