It’s hard not to using technology for directions. From the invention of GPS, to apps like Waze, the entire concept of figuring out how to get someplace in your vehicle has transformed over the past 15 years or so. I’m not sure someone starting to drive today even knows what the headline of this column -- “Old School Directions” – means.
“Dad, you mean you used to drive into a gas station and ask a local person how to find an address?”
“Yup, son, that’s the way we did it back in the dinosaur days of 2004.”
This past weekend, a friend from high school drove down to meet me so we could ride together to our high school reunion. We’re both throwbacks in different ways to older approaches of looking at and solving problems.
When we connected and agreed to drive together, I shot him a text on how to get to our house, which doesn’t appear on every app for some satellite-related reason. He didn’t bat an eye. “See you then,” was the response.
We didn’t communicate for a week. I sent him a reminder. “Got it,” he replied.
That Thursday evening, within 30 minutes of expected arrival, he drove down the gravel driveway to our house. He cheated a bit by printing out the Google map to bring along, but he basically navigated the old school way, following my directions, knowing the route beforehand, and hitting all the landmarks in the proper order.
It was heartening, and in some ways a connection because we had this similar approach to finding out where we were going, and we both minimize our reliance on technology. Instead we use our visual senses and memory, important qualities we’re losing these days by over-reliance on technology to make decisions for us.
A couple of jobs ago, I worked with a guy who I think was 28 at the time. Great guy, a lot of fun, tech savvy. He relied on Waze to get up in the morning and tell him what to do.
One time we tried returning to a customer’s location from the previous day and as we left the parking lot of our business, he asked me whether to turn left or right. He’s so completely blanked on where we’d been the day before (and relied on Waze to “tell” him where to turn) that he had no idea of the very first step out of our parking area.
He’s gotten a bit better about paying attention and coming to recognize his surroundings, but his first instinct is still to trust technology and let it make the decision. I understand that draw – it simplifies your life and let’s you focus on other things.
At the same time, there is much lost. The simple act of sending directions to a friend to help him find your place produces a certain joy as we explore the world. You know how to get somewhere. It’s a developed skill. It shows you know a tiny slot of land on this vast planet.
Our high school reunion included a lot of other great memories. Connecting with my buddy to start got us off on the right foot, a small sense of accomplishment. And don’t get me started on my joy at seeing several maps folded up in his car as we set off.
“Dad, you mean you used to drive into a gas station and ask a local person how to find an address?”
“Yup, son, that’s the way we did it back in the dinosaur days of 2004.”
This past weekend, a friend from high school drove down to meet me so we could ride together to our high school reunion. We’re both throwbacks in different ways to older approaches of looking at and solving problems.
When we connected and agreed to drive together, I shot him a text on how to get to our house, which doesn’t appear on every app for some satellite-related reason. He didn’t bat an eye. “See you then,” was the response.
We didn’t communicate for a week. I sent him a reminder. “Got it,” he replied.
That Thursday evening, within 30 minutes of expected arrival, he drove down the gravel driveway to our house. He cheated a bit by printing out the Google map to bring along, but he basically navigated the old school way, following my directions, knowing the route beforehand, and hitting all the landmarks in the proper order.
It was heartening, and in some ways a connection because we had this similar approach to finding out where we were going, and we both minimize our reliance on technology. Instead we use our visual senses and memory, important qualities we’re losing these days by over-reliance on technology to make decisions for us.
A couple of jobs ago, I worked with a guy who I think was 28 at the time. Great guy, a lot of fun, tech savvy. He relied on Waze to get up in the morning and tell him what to do.
One time we tried returning to a customer’s location from the previous day and as we left the parking lot of our business, he asked me whether to turn left or right. He’s so completely blanked on where we’d been the day before (and relied on Waze to “tell” him where to turn) that he had no idea of the very first step out of our parking area.
He’s gotten a bit better about paying attention and coming to recognize his surroundings, but his first instinct is still to trust technology and let it make the decision. I understand that draw – it simplifies your life and let’s you focus on other things.
At the same time, there is much lost. The simple act of sending directions to a friend to help him find your place produces a certain joy as we explore the world. You know how to get somewhere. It’s a developed skill. It shows you know a tiny slot of land on this vast planet.
Our high school reunion included a lot of other great memories. Connecting with my buddy to start got us off on the right foot, a small sense of accomplishment. And don’t get me started on my joy at seeing several maps folded up in his car as we set off.