Navigation systems should get lost

Does anyone really get lost anymore?
I mean, they may have no idea where the heck they are. But thanks to satellites and GPS and navigation systems and smart-alec phones, folks will still be able to find directions to get from Point A to Point B, even if they have no clue where Point A and Point B actually are.
Trouble is, when you’re dependent upon technology, the emphasis is on the word dependent.
A couple of years ago, the newspaper had a couple of nice young interns for the summer. One of them wanted to a reporter. The other wanted to be photojournalist.
About a week after they started, they were sent to the offices of the Jay School Corporation on West Tyson Road on the outskirts of Portland. The idea was that the reporter-type would do the interview, and the photographer-type would take the pictures.
Now, the distance between the daily newspaper office and the school corporation headquarters is something like three-quarters of a mile. Maybe a mile at most.
The interns were given simple directions: Turn here from Main Street over to Water Street, which becomes Tyson Road, and the building is on the north side. It’s red brick and used to be an armory. You can’t miss it.
Then they stepped outside, and one of them turned to technology. They either asked their smart-alec phone or punched something into the GPS in the car.
Whatever they did, the tech wizards picked up on the old address of the school corporation headquarters on East Arch Street, a good mile in the wrong direction. Full of confidence, the two interns zipped off in error.
About 20 minutes later, there was a call from the person who was supposed to be interviewed. He was waiting, and the interns were nowhere in sight. They finally showed up, but only after some baffling phone conversations between the newsroom and their smart-alec phones.
Interns, of course, aren’t the only ones to fall into this trap.
Heading east on vacation a few years ago, we found ourselves bickering with the GPS in my wife’s Honda CRV when it failed to recognize improvements on U.S. 30 in Ohio and thought we were plowing through cornfields instead of enjoying a four-lane highway.
And just last weekend, when we headed up to Wabash to enjoy a show at the Honeywell Center, the navigation system in my aging Jag (10 years and counting) was more than a little confused.
It got us to Marion all right, though it protested when I took county roads to avoid the horrible asphalt on U.S. 27 north of Portland. But when I thought I should turn right on Indiana 15 in Marion, the car’s system insisted that I should go straight ahead west on Indiana 13, then head north when the GPS system thought that would be a good idea.
Net result: The trip took about 20 minutes longer than it should have, and for the last 20 minutes I had to endure electronic suggestions that I should make a legal U-turn at the first available opportunity and get back to the prescribed course.
Coming home was easier. It always is.
But I thought the car’s electronic voice sounded unnecessarily cocky when it assured us, as we sat in our own driveway, that we had indeed reached our destination.
Next time we head out anywhere, the navigation system is off. And there is a map — remember maps? — in the car.