In era of navigation apps, it still requires some interpretation

Mrs. Brad and I were driving in an unfamiliar town, using the Waze navigation app on my phone to find a restaurant.

I almost missed a turn when my phone said, "turn right in point-one miles" and I didn't hear the word "point." Fortunately, Mrs. Brad yelled at me and we turned before I crashed into the dead-end barrier. ("But there's a mile to go!")

Then we approached a fork in the road and the voice on the app was mute.

"Turn here?" I asked.

No answer from the phone nor from Mrs. Brad. I moved into the left lane.

"Turn here?"

No answer.

I began to merge right to go straight.

"Keep going!" she shouted.

I completed my merge into the right lane.

"No. Keep going! Keep turning!"

I swerved back, making the left turn at a rate faster than the engineers planned.

"You said keep going," I said, sternly.

"I know what I said. I meant to keep turning."

We sat silently, her wondering why I can't drive, me wondering why she can't navigate.

Making that partnership work is a true test of a relationship, even in the age of GPS devices.

Most couples can identify which combination works best for them in an unfamiliar area: Who should drive and who should navigate (if necessary). Opposites attract and all that.

For Mrs. Brad and me, it's obvious: She's a better driver, I'm a better navigator. Which made that recent incident difficult.

My lack of driving skill is legendary, including three in-garage wrecks. I tell people I'm better than before, but that's likely wishful thinking.

However, I'm good at directions. Whether with old-fashioned maps ("you're coming up on the exit to downtown Chico, which you want to pass, but there's another exit in about a mile that you'll take") or interpreting Waze or Google's navigation system ("Get into the right lane. You'll take a right, then a left in about two blocks."), I can lead Mrs. Brad to the right place. It's one of the few things at which I'm better than her. (Others: shouting out "Jeopardy" answers, ironing, making pancakes.)

Mrs. Brad is a better driver and needs less navigation. She remembers where people live, where restaurants are and where states are without looking at a map.

Yet there we were, Mrs. Brad giving directions and me driving like I was in a slow-motion Grand Prix race, swerving from lane to lane. We arrived and laughed.

I guess the best solution is to stay in your lane, both literally and figuratively.

Do what you do best, let your partner do what they do best.

Anytime we're going somewhere unfamiliar, Mrs. Brad should drive and I should navigate (and check on sports news on my phone).

The development of GPS devices (constantly updating your arrival ETA, explanations of delays, suggestions to bypass slowdowns) is one of the magical events of the past 25 years, but it didn't change the fact that unless you're relying strictly on the vocalization of directions from a smartphone app, somebody has to anticipate turns and somebody has to drive.

If you can navigate your way to an unfamiliar restaurant in a new town without getting in a major fight, you can probably navigate the rest of your relationship.

However, it's not a bad idea to define what "keep going" means before you come up on a fork in the road.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@hotmail.com.