When I was young, I knew about Tom Tom. He was the piper’s son. One day he stole a pig, and away did run.
But Tom Tom must die. I don’t mean Tom Tom. He was just hungry. If I was him, I would have stolen a pig, too.
I’m referring to the worst invention known to mankind, designed by the Devil himself. The TomTom. You know, that obnoxious little GPS device that tells you where to go. Well, I’d like to tell it where to go: Straight to Hell. See if you can configure that route, Tom.
Mind you, I don’t own a TomTom. Or a Magellan. I can’t stand them. The only time I’ve had to endure the presence of their taunting directions with their endless “Recalculating, Recalculating” mantra was when a former friend named Wes brought his along in my car. He sat in the back seat with it, gleeful in all its technological wonder. And it instructed, and it chirped, and it recalculated and it constantly admonished and scolded me for my choice in roads.
I finally got to the point where I turned to Wes and said, “If you don’t turn that thing off it’s going to go for its own little trip, out the window.” He initially thought I was joking. I assured him I was not. So came the end of TomTom on that particular day.
Now that all the Snowbirds are back from the north here in Florida, they are worse than ever. Instead of making the usual U-turns that are a right of every Floridian to make (they even have special U-turn lanes here), the TomToms have created traffic nightmares worse than any teenager on a cellphone who’s texting.
You can tell which cars have them. They creep along for a mile or more before the damned thing tells them to turn. Then they turn without any signal. I almost got broadsided by some old fart who wasn’t paying attention to the road ahead of him or the cars around him. Instead, he was staring directly at the TomTom, as if it had seized control of his feeble 80 year old brain and was controlling his every move.
I can’t believe that states are outlawing cellphones when they aren’t outlawing these stupid devices at the same time. If you’re lost, stop and ask directions. If you can’t find someone’s home, call them. If you are on a trip, print the directions out from Google Maps before you leave. Just don’t endanger my life with TomTom, who is not the piper’s son, but a creation spawned from the very depths of Hell itself.
Unfortunately, these things continue to sell like hotcakes. And there are countless old farts standing at the ready to buy them. I am outnumbered by those who not only have no sense of direction, but no sensibility.
Lewis and Clark didn’t need one to cross the vast wilderness of an undiscovered country. I certainly don’t need one to find the nearest Cumberland Farms minimart.
I mean geez, that’s what I have my iPhone map app for.
Lost somewhere between here and there in Florida,
— Robb