Samantha, the other woman

Finally, I bought a Garmin GPS so that my husband and I could stop arguing over directions when we take road trips.  He's never satisfied with the MapQuest or Google directions I've printed out.  Despite the fact those directions have only confused us or given us misdirections maybe 3 times out of over 4,000 miles traveled, according to him, "They're wrong every time."

So, in order to save my marriage, I bought the GPS; I have my attorney on hold.  The first time we used it, I typed in simple local destinations and Samantha, our GPS feminine vocal guide, had us taking bizarre routes.  She would have had us going needlessly around blocks instead of staying on main roads.  So, she was constantly "recalculating" directions for us while my husband carried on that the device "isn't worth shit" and we need to return it.  It doesn't help matters that per town records, there exists a "paper street" along side our property, but in reality, it does not exist.  It is a wooded lot owned by the town.  Samantha, however, insists that we should drive through the wooded lot to get to the main street which our home is actually located on and where our driveway lets out.  She thinks, for some strange reason, that we should drive through our backyard unto the street behind our home, and then up through the wooded lot owned by the town (the paper street) onto the main road.  If she can't get me out of my own driveway, I cannot help but be concerned about long distance road trips.  I don't pretend to understand how Samantha works, but I am worried I have acquired the Bird's Eye GPS, engineered only for winged travellers.

Having once figured out that Samantha was misadvised, we used a neighbor's address as "home."  At the very least, if anyone ever steals our GPS thinking we're not home with the intent to steal from it, they'll end up at my neighbor's instead.  I hope she'll be home and calls the police in such an event.  I've heard that this is a wise thing to do in general.  I'm hoping Edna next door hasn't put our home into her GPS, but if she has, it's likely any thieves will end up in the woods.

Our first real trip, we ventured out to a local bakery successfully, after taking our preferred route as opposed to the one suggested by Samantha who quickly "recalculated" at every block and eventually just went with the flow.

We then headed out to a restaurant an hour away in Somers Point, NJ, for a family celebration for my mother's only cousin's 90th birthday bash.  Samantha guided us to the Garden State Parkway all right.  My back up MapQuest directions told us to take Exit 30 and then one or two turns from there to the destination.  Samantha wanted us to take exit 48 to Route 9, but when we blew by that exit, she recalculated again and suggested exit 36.  My husband told her to go "F" off and blew by that exit as well and she again recalculated.  As if an original idea, she finally told us to take exit 30 then instructed us to take various "turns" off the "roundabouts", but the area was under massive construction, having removed the "roundabouts" and all the signs.  Thankfully, we followed our instincts and the MapQuest directions and stumbled upon the restaurant while Samantha was throwing a fit, recalculating and trying to tell us our destination was actually a little further up the road, but I believe she may have just been directing us to a separate entrance into the lot.  My husband nearly threw her out the window at that point, telling her to just shut the hell up.  I was starting to get jealous.

For the ride home, Samantha mainly stayed quiet and once off the parkway, we came to realize she didn't appear to be wise to the use of "jughandles" in the State of New Jersey either.  If I were from Zimbabwe perhaps and driving for the first time in New Jersey, I surely would have been killed the first time I attempted to make a left hand turn off a major highway per Samantha's directives.  Luckily, however, we know how to get home off the parkway exit to our town or we might still be driving around aimlessly in search of a left hand turn off a major highway.

So, instead of yelling at each other, we now yell at Samantha Garmin.  I think my husband and I are going to mutually retain a lawyer and divorce her.  Suddenly, we don't look so bad to the other.

I don't understand this technology.  First of all, men don't like getting directions.  It's beneath or beyond them, I'm just not sure which it is.  They like to believe that they have an internal compass that gives them some sort of a natural ability to automatically know where they're going and they're all too often proud to admit otherwise.  They also manage to twist things around and claim that WE "screwed up" the way when we told them to make some turn four miles back, so invariably, we get the blame for how they became lost.  As a trailer driver for UPS, you would think my husband has some idea of where he's going, but admittedly he says he has "no sense of direction."  So, why does he argue with me so much over directions when I do have a sense of direction and I have a compass on my rearview mirror that I often rely on (successfully, I may add) and I've taken the time to map out our trip and print out the results that I read off to him??  Secondly, men don't listen to women, that's a known fact.  It's inherently so, unlike some internal compass they believe they possess.  No, what they do have is an internal switch off where they just don't listen to us.  Thus, I cannot fathom why on earth the makers of the GPS would put a woman's voice on the damn device. 

Personally, I think they should have used William Shatner's voice.  My husband would listen to him, especially if he told us to engage at warp speed.  At the very least, Sulu.  "Stay the course, Captain."  I hope the GPS systems used by NASA and our military are better at giving directions than Samantha Garmin, that's all I can say.  She's an idiot and I think I'm beginning to detect a little attitude.  She is not helping the plight of women.  She's making it worse from what I can see.  I'm just trying to figure out the psychology behind the makers using a woman's voice.  Did they want women to think they had a friend?  While Samantha may take the heat off of things, becoming the scapegoat, I see that it only fuels men's dismissive relationship with women in general.  "You're a woman, what do you know about directions?  It's men who explored the earth and discovered new land, not women."  "Yeah, and Columbus thought he'd found India when he discovered America and Ponce deLeon thought he found the Fountain of Youth, so shut the hell up, Copernicus."  When Samantha Garmin can respond like that, then I know we women not only have a friend, but we have won the battle against men and directions.

The Wild Side

I don't get it.  We live on a decent sized property, half of which is wooded and situated against township property which is also wooded and completely overgrown.  So, that means that my yard is nearly overrun with whatever vermin lives on the township property, including, but not limited to:  groundhogs, rabbits, squirrels, moles and chipmunks.  There was a skunk once, but our dogs (when we had dogs) took care of that (after it took care of them the time before--PHEWY!). 

Recently, a family of stray black cats has taken up residence in the wooded areas (and maybe under our deck) and for a few days at least, we even had a black squirrel (which is extremely rare in our area) that had been running around, but then disappeared after a bad storm.  But for the black cats, however, it has been nearly impossible for me to capture the wildlife on film, although I did get lucky one day to get the black squirrel before he moved on.

  

We've been doing quite a few walks ("hikes") over the past year and a half in New Jersey and upstate New York, but we haven't seen as much wildlife as we feel we should have seen, but for squirrels and bugs, a turtle and a turkey falcon.  Oh, we've seen our share of ducks, swans and geese though. 

Funny thing, but having grown up in New Jersey, my entire life I've never seen the State bird, the American Goldfinch.  However, I did see one outside our Bed & Breakfast in Plattsburgh, NY, about an hour South of Montreal, Canada.  Adorable little yellow thing.  Unfortunately, I didn't have the camera ready.  Nevertheless, the lack of wildlife that the hiking trails we visit seem to be lacking is alarming, to say the least.  We're not that noisy.  We sit patiently and wait.  We look.  We listen.  But all too often, we've scratched our heads wondering, "Where's the wildlife?"

Today, I visited a State Park in the countryside, which shares real estate with a historical farm.  So, of course, there were horses, sheep, pigs, cows and chickens on the farm and that was a pleasure to see, especially since they seemed very well cared for and content.  But, seriously, can I really claim seeing wildlife at a farm?  Not really. 

So, you can imagine my surprise as I walked through the park and found a blue heron by the pond's edge which didn't fly off the moment it heard people nearby.  I'd never seen one before and never one up so close.  They really are blue!  It was spectacular and made my day.

That is, until I came across the groundhogs.  First, I saw one and then came the other and I suddenly had two of them!  Together!  And they, too, didn't scamper off immediately upon being discovered.  I was ecstatic.  I have at least one in my backyard digging holes to China and I can't get anywhere near him without him running off and here, at a public park, I saw two of them within 12 feet of where I stood if not less.  It was a great day! 

When Negative is Positive

The most beautiful word in the English language is: “Benign.” Obviously, one must have a real scare in order to truly appreciate it’s beauty, but even without a scare, it’s a word that clearly evokes good feeling……in fact, a “positive feeling.”

And there’s the contradiction. Why is a finding of benign considered “a negative finding?” But, a positive finding truly is not positive at all. It’s all very confusing. “Your results are negative.” “NEGATIVE??? YOU MEAN I’M GOING TO DIE?” “No, no, negative for cancer, positive for you.”

How is it that Malignant = positive and Benign = negative? Yet, in reality malignant is a very tragic result and benign is an extremely positive outcome.

So, you can have positive feelings about negative results? And negative feelings over positive tests?
In most cases, positive test results would be deemed favorable, except in the field of medicine. Elsewhere, if you score high on a test, that’s usually a good thing--who doesn’t want a 100 on, for example, a science test? There are instances when scoring positively, or high, on a test is a bad (or, rather, negative) thing. If you’re taking a psychological test and you score 100 in an area indicative of sociopathy, that’s not a good thing. “You tested positive for schizophrenia, congratulations.” Generally, however, a positive thing is favorable. In medicine, though, hearing “Your test results are favorable to a finding of cancer” is NOT a good thing.

So, positive test results in education are a good thing; the higher your score, the better your grade. In medicine, stay away from positive grades. There is no goodness in positive test findings, it’s all very negative.
If you are ever faced with the torturous long wait for biopsy results, I truly hope that you get the truly positive result and benefit of 100% positively negative findings of anything malignant. Or, rather, it is, indeed, a positive result to receive negative results.
　
　
　
　
　

Niagara: Expensive and not so "Duty Free"

My husband, Tom, and I recently took a trip across New York State to enjoy the Fall foliage while hiking through waterfall parks and gorges, ending our trip at Niagara Falls in Ontario, Canada.  What a tourist trap!  We no sooner arrived in Niagara on the American side when some guy on a street corner waving a flag directed us into a parking lot where we were then directed into a visitor's center and talked onto a bus tour of the Falls for $140.00.  Within 10 minutes of arriving, we were aboard the bus and on our way to all the hotspots.  If it wasn't worth the money, though, it would have been a total scam, but it was actually well organized, orchestrated and we enjoyed the sites, which included:  getting aboard the famous Maid of the Mist; climbing the steps up the Falls and getting completely drenched; visiting the Whirlpool Basin from the overlook rim of Niagara Falls Park; a brief visit at a storefront museum to see the barrels used by some to go over the Falls; and walking across the pedestrian bridges to Three Sisters Island, all within a 3 hour tour.  We could have also enjoyed the observation tower, but we skipped that.  They said we'd spend a total of 12 minutes on the bus and that was pretty accurate, we were on an adventure for most of the time and didn't have to deal with getting lost or wandering around in circles, which we usually end up doing.  We weren't rushed through the sites, either, allowing sufficient time to take in the views and take pictures.

So, having done all of that, we then jumped back into our SUV and drove across to Ontario to our hotel.  Tom noticed a large sign "Duty Free" and commented he'd like to check that out before leaving Canada.  Less than ten minutes in the country, Tom made at least 3 illegal turns, cut off one New York tourist, and entered some lot through an exit.  I laughed that he hadn't been in the country long before he'd broken half the laws and was approaching criminal status before turning over the keys to the valet at our hotel which overlooked Horseshoe Falls and a view of the American Falls.

Almost immediately, we were struck by the cost of everything which we learned did not include the 16% tax.  So, a bottle of water in our room at $6.50 was actually far more.  The tram ride down to the hill to the waterfront was another $5.00 per person.  (Note to reader: If you are staying across from Horseshoe Falls, walk down Murray Street to Niagara Parkway/River Road and walk along waterfront.  On the way back to your hotel, take the tram for $5.00 back up.  You'll thank me later, even with the 16% tax added in.  Walk where you can, parking is neither free nor convenient anywhere you want to go and the hotels are a steep climb from the waterfront area.)

There are plenty of restaurants in the area, steakhouses being very popular, including two Brazilian steakhouses within a block of each other.  Unfortunately, by nightfall of our first day, my husband succumbed to the horrible headcold he was denying he had and we decided to eat the hearty salad we had smuggled into the country in a cooler in the back of our SUV, opening a can of tuna to mix in with it.  I finished off a bottle of wine I had opened a day earlier and he finished off the last two beers from a six pack he'd bought earlier in the week.  Cheers!  We toasted to the Falls which lay before us from the 15th floor of our hotel.  The view was spectacular and we chuckled about how the perfectly manicured waterfront and park area resembled a miniature trainset, less the trains. 

The following morning, we awoke to a fabulous sunrise just below the storm clouds from the N'or Easter hugging the Eastern shores.  While it rained all day, it didn't interfere with our plans as we'd done most of the Falls adventures we were interested in the day before (at American prices).  We chose to visit the nearby Butterfly Conservatory.  Well, I chose to visit it, my husband rolled his eyes about it quite a bit.  First, however, we drove over to the All You Can Eat Breakfast Buffet for $6.99 per person.  I'm not sure what happened after that.  We each filled our plate once, each had a coffee and a glass of orange juice and the bill came to $23.00.  Thankfully, I stuffed two hard boiled eggs into my purse with a handful of half n half containers "for later."  We're not cheap by any means, but we were being practical.  Life on the road will do that.  This was our third road trip in five months time.  We were getting good at things. (Before our next road trip, I will remember to hard boil a bunch of eggs for keeping in the cooler.  They come in handy as a quick protein source, or a quick breakfast or, if you remember the mayo and bread, you've got yourself a sandwich for lunch!)

Onward to the Butterfly Conservatory which appears to share the same real estate with the Botannical Gardens.  Had it been another time of the year and not raining, I would have delighted in a stroll through the lovely and perfectly manicured grounds.  The conservatory, while smaller than I expected, was an amazing experience and we both enjoyed it.  I had to laugh because while seemingly uninterested initially, Tom quickly became engrossed in chasing after some large, blue, but elusive butterfly species when I gave him one of our two cameras.  It was both exhausting and frustrating chasing the "Blue Ones" which we were told were very active on overcast days and rarely stopped flight.  Eventually, we gave up and I took my husband back to the hotel when it became clear he needed a serious nap.

We didn't venture out again except to seek out some chicken noodle soup.  That turned out to be a challenge because he didn't want to pay crazy prices for a dinner that he wouldn't be able to taste or enjoy, nor did he want to pay outrageous prices for room service (plus 16% tax).  The nearby Appleby's ran out of their chicken noodle soup and TGI Fridays wasn't offering any.  Eventually we found some at Quiznos and overpaid for sandwiches and soup before heading back to our hotel room.  I desperately wanted to eat at the Brazilian Steakhouse, but being my husband didn't have much of an appetite, that seemed foolish.  He took to the bed immediately until his fever broke sometime in the middle of the night.

The following morning, the sun came up to reveal a sunny day.  We ate our stolen hard-boiled eggs, made some room coffee with the half and half I'd swiped and each had a Nutrigrain bar while we packed up for our long trip back to New Jersey.  Before leaving Canada, we took a lovely walk through a nearby park on the backend of Horseshoe Falls. Tom wanted to stop at the Duty Free building just before the Rainbow Bridge crossing into the United States, but ultimately did not when he couldn't find the entrance and continued on to the border where we were pulled out of our car for a random check at customs.  I told my husband they were going to strip search us for any stolen eggs that we might be smuggling into the States.  Actually, however, because of an outstanding protective order still in effect from my previous marriage, we were held at the border pending confirmation that Tom was not smuggling me across the border against my will.

While sitting on the bench waiting, with my husband becoming extremely aggravated, especially in view of the fact that he did not feel well and had a very long drive ahead of him, I suddenly realized he smelled like shit, dog shit that is.  I looked down at his shoe and said, "Omigod, I think you stepped in dogshit."  He looked at the bottom of his shoe, "No, it's just mud" and swiped at it with his finger and we were both overwhelmed by the smell of dog feces.  I burst out laughing as he flung dog crap all over the floor with his finger before they called to us and told us we could go.  I don't know if it was because I was clearly having a good time that I could not possibly be under any duress or because he smelled like dog crap that they let us leave without any further questions, but before leaving, he went upstairs to the bathroom to clean off his shoe.  For the next two hours, I fought back fits of laughter over the whole incident.  My husband, however, was not amused in the slightest, bitching about Osama bin Laden inconveniencing us, bitching about my former husband and in no time at all we were in a full blown argument when I told him to just "get over it" and not be so worked up over things, "It is what it is.  It's a story for the grandkids one day."  In the midst of the argument, he also managed to miss the exit we were supposed to take which only infuriated him more.  So, the fact I couldn't stop laughing only served to annoy him more, and the more annoyed he became, the more hysterical I found the situation.  It was sort of like trying not to laugh at a funeral and made the next few hours in the car difficult.  We were clearly not on the same road emotionally.  At one point, I mentioned that "Niagara is usually where many people start their marriages, not end them."  I also told him, "You know, it doesn't serve well to act like an asshole at customs when you're suspected of kidnapping."  He growled at me and I bit my lip hard to not bust out laughing again.

Eventually, we stopped roadside somewhere in New York State for a hearty brunch that totalled $14.86, with tax, and a smirk began to emerge on his lips.  "Now that's more like it" muttered my husband.  I knew that once he felt better, he'd eventually laugh about flinging the dog shit all over the customs office.

In the car another hour later, I said, "So. . too bad you didn't stop at the Duty Free after all. . . maybe you could've cleaned the crap off your shoe so you would have been truly 'doody free', huh?" 

He looked at me and laughed and for a few minutes, he drove with a smile on his face.

Happy Trails

For the past 18 months, my husband and I have been hiking through parks, waterfronts or botannical gardens.  We even "hiked" our way across the Adirondacks on vacation and most recently through the Finger Lakes on a waterfall journey. 

Screeeeeeeeech.  Back up.

Okay, when I say "hike" I mean what we call "hiking." I don't mean backpacking our way across regions. My definition of a "hike" is basically a long walk.  In fact, I would go so far as to define those "hikes" as "unprepared long walks" meaning it was stupid that we didn't bring water. While there was one or two other long walks when I wish we'd brought the backpacks filled with water bottles, we have so far managed without them and all but one "hike" never warranted any luggage.  Although we have backpacks filled with everything one could possibly need hiking, we've taken the bags with us (on our actual backs) only one time (rather than driving around with them in the car) and that was for a 3 hour trek around Port Au Roche State Park on Lake Champlain near Plattsburgh, NY.  The longest venture we've experienced was probably a five mile round trip.  And at that, it wasn't straight five miles, it was a couple of 1-3 mile "treks" of more than one venue in one day.  The kind where you drive one place, trek about some site, get back in the car and go to another (which means drinking the water in the car between "stops").  Now that I cleared that up, when I claim we "hiked", you'll have a better idea of who and what we are.  We're not rock climbers and we don't pitch tents.

As is probably obvious by now, most of our treks have been on the easy to moderate scale, although admittedly, some of those "moderate" levels have been more physically challenging than led to believe, especially when they involved going up a mountain.  Some of the trails include steep climbs and even going down a mountain can be a harrowing experience, especially when stepping over rocks or tree roots.  You really have to be careful, spending a lot of time looking down so you don't break an ankle or fall.  We're often commenting about how we hope we can get cell service in the event one of us is injured so the other doesn't have to leave to get help.  Especially if it were my husband, he'd never find me and I'm not so sure he'd find his way back to the car.  And neither of us is going to carry the other one anywhere.

 

We also have walking sticks, but pretty much I drive around with mine which I only used once (on that same Lake Champlain "hike") and the other one that I bought for my husband sits in my closet because he refuses to use it.  In fact, my walking stick is located near the binoculars we always leave in the car, somewhere behind the cooler we usually have stuffed with food and cold drink "for when we get back."  Our collection of equipment has also grown to include two folding camp chairs.  Those we've brought along to the beach at least to watch sunrises.  Otherwise, they, too, have been useless dollars spent.

We once went on a "hike" through Island Beach State Park, a natural barrier island along the Jersey Shore, bringing with us chairs, cameras, and bug repellents (after having also sprayed ourselves with two different brands already) to enjoy the bayside views and bird blind along Barnegat Bay, NJ, but we were attacked by a swarm of mosquitoes so thick in numbers that we were breathing them into our nostrils and mouthes when we tried to speak.  Unable to fend off the invaders, we ended up running out of the trail about a quarter of the mile we'd walked into it.  I swore my encephalitis-infected brain was going to swell from the many bites I received, but it was actually a sprained ankle I suffered.  So much for the Deet products.  It was like jumping out of an airplane with a hole in my parachute.  We worried about running into bears in our treks through the Ramapo and Adirondak mountains, but it was the mosquitoes less than ten miles from home that nearly finished us off.

We haven't gotten lost yet, per se, but we've gotten "confused" and while we've always found our way back to the car, sometimes those journeys back to the car have been via "alternative" routes.  This is often compounded by the fact that my husband has absolutely no sense of direction (or a great memory) and I give up arguing with him when we end up on such routes.  His sense of direction when driving is no better, really.  (Did I mention that he's a professional tractor trailer driver?  It's true, and when he can't find his way, he always insists we're "just going around in circles.").  It's usually me who pulls us out of such situations. Then again, I'm the one packing the car, packing the backpacks, and reading the maps that I brought.  That doesn't matter, though.  According to my husband, those maps are always wrong or outdated and don't include the trail we're on.  I bought a compass once as back up.  The only time he used it (before losing it) was driving around a near empty parking lot trying to locate where the shade would be a few hours later (I swear to God he actually did that, I wanted to murder him).  In any event, someone is getting a GPS for Christmas.

Despite all of those things, we do enjoy these trips.  We've seen beautiful landscapes and views, or other moments in nature, capturing many of them on film, and have enjoyed long talks, lighthearted chatter and even battled the elements together.  We've encouraged each other to venture on, coached the other in maneuvering around difficult terrain, respected each other's limits and we've created some great memories together, most of them on a positive scale.  With two cameras, we've captured hundreds of pictures while we experiment with the technology and challenge any artistic talents we may have.  Its a time when we leave our problems behind us, turn off our cellphones, and just reconnect as the couple we used to be early in our relationship, the couple we are now and the couple we see ourselves as in the future.  It's part of the little world we've created for ourselves that we enjoy outside the hustle and bustle of every day life.  Of course, that's not to say my husband would not be equally satisfied laying in bed after sex with his DVR remote catching up on all the shows he may have missed during the week, but he's a guy after all.

Often times, on these hikes, I think of how I wish I were younger and more adventurous, "Wow, if I only had the balls to hang glide here or kayak over those rapids."  I contemplated a hot air balloon ride over an incredible landscape at Letchworth State Park in Castile, New York (nicknamed "the Grand Canyon of the East"), but all I could think of is what happens if you suddenly go into a panic and want out of the basket immediately? What about vomiting? I'd be terrified I'd barf in the basket, but I'm sure as hell not leaning over the basket to puke into the sky.  Oh, talk about vertigo!  So, whaddaya do?  Cower down into fetal position, rocking and sucking your thumb?  How embarrassing.

I can't swim.  It's a long sordid story stemming from a near drowning incident as a child, but I wish I could.  I wish I had taken the time to learn as a young adult, but its not going to happen at this point and the fear of it all is too paralzying. I have too many phobias of the water.  As much as I wish I could go white water rafting or go out in a kayak on some lake, it's just not going to happen.  To compound matters, I can't do cold water.  So, if I were to swim, I'd only be able to do so in water of certain temperature.  I am horribly afraid of the ocean (and I grew up at the Shore), and not really interested in fish swimming near me, so I can only do the low end of a swimming pool.  Most people don't kayak in pools.  But, I've spent many long, pensive moments sitting on boulders along a riverbed or lakefront thinking about how nice it would be to know how to swim and venture out.  I wish I had done such things when I was younger and more impetuous. 

Similarly, on a recent trip, my husband said how he wished he were younger and could rock climb.  I agreed that would be an incredible experience.  Of course, the fact we both have a fear of heights would indeed make such an experience eventful.

Most of our hikes lead us to a scenic vista, perhaps a beach, a bay, a river, a waterfall, a wetland.  I plan it that way so that there is something rewarding in it for me, so I feel as though I did something to get to the gold ring. I'm not much for just any old trail, it has to lead to something.  I'm not very athletic, so getting off my ass to do anything physical has to have a reward.  Walking from my car to the sandy beach to see the ocean I've seen hundreds of times is boring to me, unless there's a sunrise or sunset.  I'm not into the noisy, crowded beach scene.  Going down a trail, perhaps seeing wildlife, listening to the sounds of nature, before coming upon a lakeview or a fabulous gorge or a mountain view is like hitting a jackpot as I snap away with my camera.  In addition, the solitude but for my husband's company is everything as rarely we come across others on a hike, although when we do it is brief.  As we trek our way through a trail, commenting on the animals, birds or foliage we may encounter along the way, there is something special about that "wow" moment when we emerge from a trail together to find a fabulous overlook.  We feel like Lewis and Clark and its even more enjoyable when there is no one else around.  You can't get that at a crowded beach.  We enjoy that quietude together, it's a time for us.