So Dad got this nifty gizmo called a GPS. That roughly translates to "with the help of overkill of expensive satellite technology - I know exactly what Buckaroo Bonsai means when he says 'wherever you go.. well.. there you are'" He was so excited about it that the last three cam pics of Christmas dinner - he is a ghostly blur as he tried to test the limits of his new toy (sadly, it doesn't know the EXACT location of our livingroom).

He even was so thrilled with it - that he forgot he was talking to mom about the gadget and I could see the blood running out of her ears from too much information from Mr. Wizard. Mom doesn't get the gadget speak very well - but she was happy in the knowledge that she "done good in picking out Pa's new toy." Him and that machine were inseparable. I just knew he was taking it to work with him and counting out miles and how fast he could get there. I bet he even tried to figure out if it knew where his office was. I told him that it needed to be able to make him a sandwich whenever he wanted one for that kind of money. Dad, in that "is he serious or not?" way of his replied,"They have a feed back forum - why don't you suggest one." Dad seems to have all the best ideas, doesn't he?

I didn't quite know the extent of his co-dependency to this particular newfound electron manipulator. What I did find out wasn't too terribly amusing - but at least Dad is honest.

Usually mom and I "ooh" and "ahh" at the appropriate places until he realizes what's up and stomps out of the room in a whiny kid style, "oh you don't care.. go away." But this new device was right up my alley. Anyone that travels with me knows that I know the exact location of each exit, how many miles from one destination to another and what my best time is. I pride myself on these things and have been to Atlanta so much - I know where I am just by what roadkill I pass and what weird things I can buy at what Texaco. In short, I am " The Rainman" driver.

Usually since it's just me and my horrid 80's music in the car - I am fine with this habit - but when in a car with people and having to make a lot stops (which puts my average speed down and screws up the mileage system I have pinpointed out) - I get a little cranky and my friends hate it.

So here Dad had found a way to keep our weird manic traveling habit to ourselves. Lets hear it for denial that can really be hidden. I was really interested on our way to Baltimore and how many miles, etc. So we plotted out the trip to the airport (passing many an icon for various gas stations). I was sooo absorbed with where we were going that the trip seemed so much shorter, and then got on the plane - where dad exhibited a lot of disturbing behavior...

Dad change in attitude 1: Usually dad likes to sit in the aisle seat - we get luggage faster and get out faster. This time around he elbows me in the head to get to the window seat and immediately sets up the GPS to find the satellites and for the whole flight has the GPS aimed at the window. He at least catches my glare of death about the situation and says I can sit at the window if I want - but I have to operate the GPS. And if I didn't - there was a perfectly good window seat behind him.

Dad change in attitude 2: The sack of marine shellacked peanuts that guarantee freshness but also guarantees a headache and a useless hand workout requires (surprise) two hands for this operation. Dad realizes that he has to actually let go of the GPS to perform this task. But the need for having the info of our altitude status (much to my chagrin - sometimes there is a thing such as TMI) is more important than hunger now. He has a higher purpose. Instead he takes a new approach - he gives me a pained look and I open the bag for him.

I figured out at this moment I had some serious competition on my hands for his loyalty. I looked at dad after the peanut incident and said "If there was a test where you could either save me or save your GPs - you MIGHT save me - but you would totally pause and think about it for a minute."

Dad hung his head his shame - he had to contemplate that question now (all the while we are still morbidly hypnotized by the tracking of the plane). He would like to think that he would do the right thing - but I bet he was trying to weigh the options that he could work it out so that he could have both. Can't blame a guy for trying, I 'spose - but he could have at least been discreet about it. It's like an "Am I fat?" question - you are supposed to answer with a decisive no ASAP.

Its all good, though. Dad picked up on our "special sharing" of this traveling information fixation and is letting me borrow this precious and expensive toy for my trips to Atlanta. I get to fixate on on miles to get there, miles back, directions to an address, average speed, best speed. Coupled with the radar detector (and I will talk about this less cool product - but still as useful as a list of passwords to adobe products -later) and I am set to kick ass on the highways. I hope I don't break it - I fear he will break me in its place.