I Can't Go - Vacation Day 1

I can’t take a vacation now. First of all, Marty and I don’t have the funds. We are on a tight budget this year. Secondly, I hate to burn up more vacation time. I’ve taken more vacation days this year than I did by this same time last year. Thirdly, I’ve been feeling very irritable lately. I hate to subject Marty to four days of being locked in a car with me.

So, why am I on vacation? We found a way to do it cheaply. Marty has lots of hotel points, so we get to stay for free. We are visiting the Lost Maples in Texas, so we aren’t spending much money on travel. We have set ourselves a food budget of $25 per day. The hotel provides free breakfast. We brought groceries for a picnic at one meal per day. That leaves $25 for the entrée that we share at lunch. That takes care of the first excuse.

I have used 10 vacation days this year. That may be more than last year, but I still have 18 days of vacation left. I could save it for later, but I have been under a lot of stress lately. I need to get away. Excuse #2 is gone. Marty says he wants to go on vacation with me. If he is willing to take his chances with a fussy wife, who am I to stop him? Marty overrules excuse #3.

So, on Saturday we drove from Arlington to San Antonio. Our first desire on our vacation was to enjoy some delicious kolaches in West, Texas. I consulted the GPS on my phone to see how far it was to West. The GPS could not understand my request. “Please fill in all required fields.” It seemed to be asking, “West what?” I decided to try entering the name of the restaurant. I knew phonetically the name was the Check Stop. How do you spell that? Is it C-h-Z-ech? C-z-H-ech? Neither of those seemed to work. The GPS is no good at guessing what I mean. Then I remembered I could use the web connection on my phone and do a Google search. I found it. The restaurant was the Czech Stop and it was 44 miles away. When we arrived, I chose a sausage and cheese kolache and a strawberry cream cheese kolache. Marty paid for it all out of his spending money.

The drive to San Antonio took about 5 ½ hours. Marty drove. He has a herniated disc in his back and it often causes a nerve in his knee to react. Several times while driving, he winced as it sent a shock through his leg. He also had pain in his shoulders from gripping the steering wheel. Once or twice I was startled by a loud noise. “What was that?” I asked Marty. “You were snoring,” he said.

Driving to our hotel in San Antonio I noticed the Magic Time Machine. It’s a restaurant where all of the wait staff dress up in costume and pretend to take on the character they are dressed as. I remember having a great meal there almost 30 years ago. I told Marty that I really wanted to go. We decided to check into our hotel and come back.

We returned to the Magic Time Machine about 3 pm. The restaurant was almost deserted. Pocahontas, in an outfit that was too short and too tight to be authentic, showed us to our table. There we were greeted by Robin Hood in a pair of green tights.

Marty shared the filet mignon that I begged for and even agreed to bread pudding for dessert. (He hates it.) He was very good natured as the waiter returned frequently and made bad jokes in an effort to flirt with me. (I’m sure that flirting with middle aged women is part of Robin Hood’s job description.) Marty only flinched a little when the bill was $15 over our entire daily food budget.

Taking a vacation was a good idea. Excuse #3 turned out not to be a problem and Marty gets an A+ in grouchy wife handling.

I Was Lost, but My GPS Found Me

Aren't those global positioning systems (GPS) great? It's so comforting to know if I have my GPS navigation system, I will never be lost. My GPS will always know exactly where I am. Unlike friends in the car who might be back seat drivers, it never nags me about going the wrong way. Like a patient teacher, GPS guides me through the confusing maze of streets and highways. My GPS will always be there for me.

My first experience with GPS was last year when I rented a car. My husband, Marty, had thrown out his back while working in Houston and I drove down to rescue him. A GPS system was a free benefit with the rental car. Driving down the same highway for three hours, the peaceful silence was abruptly broken when the GPS system advised "Continue on I-45." I jerked so hard, I nearly drove off the road. So much for being comforted.

Marty and I each got a new phone this summer that came with a built in navigation system. Our first test of the phone's GPS was on a summer vacation we took with his daughter and two grandkids to a family reunion in Illinois. Every time the kids got restless, I pulled out my phone and looked up the nearest McDonald's playground. When it was close to dinner time, I used the phone's GPS to research the nearest restaurants.

I loved my new phone. Yet for some unexplained reason, we would just be driving down the highway and the phone GPS would decide that we were out in the middle of the field. "You are now off track" it would announce. Driving down the highway for miles, the phone continued to display our position 500 feet off to the right. Watching the monitor, it appeared that we were joy riding through the fields, bent on the destruction of some poor farmer's corn crop. I guess my GPS doesn't always know "exactly" where I am.

Sometimes Marty and I decide that we will take our own route. We leave the GPS system on as a back up in case we get into trouble. We decide the route that we want and the GPS decides the route that it wants. Everything is fine until the GPS realizes that we are not taking its advice. "You are now off track" it warns. Like disobedient children we continue taking our own path. "You are now off track" it reminds again. It continues warning until it realizes the depth of our defiance. Finally, like a weary parent, it gives in. "Recalculating route." Sometimes we change our minds several times along the way. "Recalculating route" it says each time. "Oh stop nagging me!" I yell and in disgust, I turn it off.

Despite my impatience with it, the GPS system is very impartial and patient with me. It carefully directs me. "Turn left in 1.2 miles." or "Merge on to highway 121." then "Make slight right turn on to access road." or even "Follow left bend in road." However, the system seems to think that I am incapable of seeing the road ahead of me. It talks to me as if guiding a blind man. I imagine that if I were in San Francisco driving down Lombard Street, the crookedest street in the world, it would feel compelled to say "Veer left. Veer right. Veer left. Veer right..."

Often I have driven among the tall buildings downtown. I was so grateful to have my GPS to guide me through the confusion of dense traffic and one way streets. Then I realize that I haven't heard anything from my GPS system lately. I have to know which way to go. The cars are pressing all around me. I fear my turn is coming up soon. I reach over to my faithful GPS. Why isn't it advising me? I pick it up and read the display. "Your GPS signal is weak."