We love to knock technology. To complain that social media is making us all cultivate images. Or to say that emojis are killing actual language or that constant access to information makes us slaves to the moment. We love to state that an overabundance of data makes it difficult to know the truth.
It seems terrible and begs the question of whether there's anything that's made better by technology.
In addition to the obvious answer (Yes. Almost everything is better: Imagine having to turn on a radio to hear music or doing all your banking in person or having to talk to someone on the phone when you just need a quick "OK" from them), allow me to point out my favorite technological tool.
GPS navigation.
The mobile mapping software in your phone (and maybe in your car) is a miracle. It's how we all get around without old-timey directions ("Turn off Village Drive at the white picket fence" was included in the standard directions to find our Suisun City house for more than two decades.)
The beauty of GPS was brought home when Mrs. Brad and I visited Hawaii.
Hawaii is paradise. It's 80 degrees every day. It's a wonderland.
But it's confusing to navigate
Of course, almost every unfamiliar area is difficult to navigate. Try going to Southern California or Seattle or Boise or Vacaville and driving around. It's not easy (especially Vacaville, with different onramps and offramps depending on which direction you're headed on Interstate 80).
But Hawaii? Much harder, even than Vacaville.
For starters, there are just 13 letters in the Hawaiian alphabet. Secondly, Hawaiian words are different. There are few Ohio Streets or Travis Boulevards in Hawaii. You know what there are a lot of? Street and city names that seem similar (again, just 13 letters!), with a lot of vowels.
When you're driving, you see Ka'la'aa Street next to Ka'la'ea Street next to La'ka'ea Street next to La'la'ea Street.
Residents can tell the difference. I can't.
Which is why GPS is so great. On our recent trip, we got our rental car, punched in our address (on Ha'le'iwa Road) and followed directions. The GPS told us when to turn. We didn't have to read road signs and discern the differences.
Back in the day, it was different. We bought paper maps and navigated by sight. If this were 40 years ago, I would have told Mrs. Brad, "OK, we just passed Ka'la'ea Street . . . or was that La'ka'ea? If it's the K one, we go three more blocks and turn on . . . Wait a second . . . where we turn is a long word that starts with M."
She would demand better answers. I'd be unable to deliver. We'd fight. I'd say something unfortunate about how stupid I find Hawaiian words. We'd ultimately find the place, but only after being angry at the sign-makers, the Hawaiian language and each other.
Now? We punch in the address and obey.
I still can read maps, so if there's an apocalypse and the GPS systems go down, I'll have a marketable skill – if paper maps still exist. I'll regale survivors with tales of Rand McNally atlases and Thompson Street Guides as I find landmarks and tell them when to turn.
But that seems unlikely. Instead, for the rest of my life, I'll be grateful for GPS navigation.
Especially in Hawaii, where G and S are not part of the alphabet.
Thirteen letters!
Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.
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