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Macon Traditions 

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Terri Hunter

Ok. I’ll admit it. I’m not the best at telling time unless the clock is digital – probably the fault of my third-grade teacher, who discouraged me from saying things such as “10 minutes past 1:30” and “15 minutes until 11:30.” 

Why? I don’t know. I also have a teeny little problem with left and right that rears its ugly head occasionally. I don’t know who to blame that on, and I am as surprised as anyone when I make that simple little mistake.

That being said, Walter and I are here in this big ol’ place called Orlando at the mercy of the download-for-free GPS app called Waze. At this point, I don’t know if Waze is male or female since I turned off the sound a while back and don’t know how to turn it back on. Even though we have spent a lot of time here, we must depend on Mr./Ms. Waze when we leave the resort community.

Walter is the pilot, and I am the holder of the magical Waze. Both are stressful positions that generate varied reactions and comments. 

So here we are, riding down the road, going at a brisk pace, when I say something like, “Turn left in 0.6 miles.” If my precious husband thinks that may not be correct, he says, “Really?” as if I might have made that up. Now, what am I supposed to say to that? 

I honestly think his questioning me makes me forget left and right — not often, just now and then when neither of us expects it. Waze has only arrows to point the direction to turn, which leaves me in charge of pondering left and right. And, sometimes, children, I mess up. 

When that happens, Walter has given over to a strange maniacal laugh, which is a bit unsettling. He even had the audacity to suggest I point in the direction of the arrow, which I absolutely refuse to do. After all, I must preserve and protect my pride the best I can, even if a bit gets chiseled away each time I misinform the pilot and must admit I made a teeny-tiny error.

Also, unlike Franklin, where I do most of my driving, here (in Orlando) there are a zillion roads converging at peculiar places, making it difficult to determine exactly which road to take. Sometimes I realize the road Waze wanted us to take is the one we just passed. On those occasions Walter not only does the crazy laugh, he also asks, “Really?” at the same time. I tell you; it unnerves me.

I think my next business card will read, “Have Waze. Will travel.” After all, Waze and I will get you there – eventually.