L U N A T A L K with Eva Moon

I’ll drive. You Nagrivate.

July 28, 2007 on 9:49 pm | In General Musing |

I hate downtown Seattle. Well, I don’t really hate it. There’s quite a bit of cool stuff to see and do. But what I hate is trying to leave downtown Seattle. It’s a fairly simple matter to get in. An aggravating or expensive matter to park. But when you’re ready to head home, it’s like the Hotel California: you can check out any time you like, but you can never leave. I know there are freeway onramps. Every so often, one stumbles across one like a delightful and unexpected portal to another world at the back of a wardrobe. Our exodus from our gig at Caffe Bella last night finally ended in such a discovery, but it was sheer dumb luck. I think the exits move around with the untimely randomness of Hogwarts staircases and my obscenity-free description of events is in no way indicative of the actual situation IN the car.

My husband and I navigate the world differently. And the differences are classically gender-biased to the point of cliche: He’s got a mental grid in his head and destinations are pinned to it as firmly as specimens in a bug collection. Maps in my head are more like macrame. Destinations and landmarks are knots with rope roads linking them in various configurations. The actual physical location of any knot is more or less irrelevant - as long as I can find a known knot, I can recall the ropes to the next one. This article in Discover Magazine suggests the differences are biological.

I don’t know which is “better.” On the surface it would seem like knowing the grid is on more solid ground. Mike can’t imagine how I ever get anywhere. And certainly, I don’t always end up taking the most direct route, though I generally reach my destination without too much groping about. But I’m frequently amazed at how he doesn’t even see obvious landmarks (and in the category of “landmarks”, I include road signs) because “we need to go north, not east” or even taking the wrong exit because it “felt like we’d gone far enough.” Our mistake last night was not following our usual strategy for marital harmony: I drive, he looks at the map. It’s much easier if I just turn where he says turn than if I scream directions while he doggedly dead-reckons.

How do you get where you’re going?

See more like that one:

• Falling for Antonio - The Final Chapter
• Falling for Antonio - Pt. 2
• Do you know the way outta San Jose