"...in half a mile, right turn..."

We got a new car and it came with GPS. What a treasure!

It has taken us to golf courses we would never have golfed, to hotels we would never have considered, to beers we never knew existed, to freeways we would never have attempted.

But most of all, it has always taken us back home. Most of all, no matter how far afield we roamed, no matter if it rained, or got dark, we knew with certainty that we would get back home.

We haven't given her a name. She remains "she". A somewhat neutral voice.

"Please go to the starting point, and the route guidance will begin" "go a quarter of a mile to Orchard Drive, and turn right" "make a slight left turn onto Arizona 101" "in half of a mile, your destination is on the right".

She does not require perfection. We have been in some wild freeways in the middle of large cities, and missed a lane change. With complete coolness, she has quietly and quickly found a way to put us back on track.

You know how guys hate to ask directions? How they want to be in complete control? She understands this kind of guy. She even goes along with him if he insists! And she doesn't laugh when he's proven wrong. We just find ourselves on the right road and nothing more is said.

If we're in the mood for a lazy out of the way road trip, she'll take us high up in a wooded hill where we wheel around rickety roads and surprise the goats and chickens. She'll stay away from freeways and take us through small town neighborhoods. If we want suggestions for an afternoon's outing, we ask the GPS. If we have only the first three letters of some place that was suggested to us, the GPS knows exactly what we're looking for.

If we need gas, or lunch, or shopping, the screen tells us where they are, what exits to take, how far away.

We talk to her. We make fun of her. We imitate her pronunciation and laugh. Sometimes it seems as if the system has a library of "sounds" and it uses this library to "form" the name of the street.

We don't care. Life has never been sweeter.