It’s road trip time! And you say, “Are you crazy lady, with that high-dollar gas?” “Oh, it’s only money!” I reply, with great authority. But, I have found over the years that spending money is all about choices — and this year I choose a road trip!

I resumed my navigator seat, i.e., passenger seat, where I have always served as the pointer. “It’s that way,” I declare grandly with my pointer finger in the air and map in hand, when suddenly I cringed with memories of our last road trip a few years back.

You see, there was a little mix-up in directions, and my husband thought I might be a little off on my map-reading credentials. Can you believe that? But don’t underestimate the logic of a true pointer, I have always said with real conviction!

You know what’s real handy for me and helps me stay on top of my map-reading game? The sun will rise in the east and set in the west, and sometimes that is my only technical tool as I grasp to read, “The Map.” Because one must work with what one has, and I have a brilliant sun winking at me here in the Southland, my Mississippi … you do, too. Aren’t we lucky ducks?

If any of you are familiar with “Dora, The Explorer,” a children’s cartoon, she emphasizes “The Map” as she sings a little ditty, something like this, “The map, the map. We must read the map.”

Too bad I only had Captain Kangaroo and Mr. Green Jeans to tickle my childhood brain, and we never got to the map. I lamely put the blame on these two as I struggle with all of the little squiggly lines and symbols that mean absolutely nothing to me.

When I’m asked, “How much farther?” I hold up by fingers an inch or a half-inch apart, figuring each inch is about two hours’ worth of driving — that is, if we are going in the right direction!

But back to our previous vacation trip mentioned earlier, in my give-me-a-map-and-watch-me-struggle narrative.

I would have to term the trip a real “bummer,” that is, the traveling part inside the city of New Orleans. After we arrived at our destination, we managed to hide the travel terrors deep in our psyche, but occasionally it popped out and still does!

You see, the McKees had won a free trip — all inclusive as the game shows on TV declare. All we had to do was to get there; it seemed real simple at the time.

It was a three-day, two-night trip to New Orleans, or “Nawlins” as the locals say. We made all of our usual preparations. First, we called everyone we knew to tell our good luck story. Next we went to the mall to get something special to wear, then we begged, bribed, and made impossible promises in order to have someone come by our house and check on our large family of pets.

We stopped the newspaper, had someone to pick up our mail — oh, and rearranged our vacation days at work in order to take advantage of this pie-in-the-sky, once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

All set, all done and we’re on our way. I had even thought of bringing along a magnifying glass in order to decipher the map more clearly, and had a manicure to make certain my “pointing finger” was in its most “pleasing to the eye” condition. We thought of everything, or so we hoped.

When the McKees make road trips, we always prefer the back roads, the county, single-lane highways, we think, offer so much more communication with the countryside. Oh, we can point out all of the local interests, especially the historic sites. It’s great fun.

Yes, all was going well as we drove deeper and deeper into south Louisiana, no rush, just taking our time, meandering along. We stopped in a picturesque small town with a little mom-and-pop country-cooking diner serving crackling cornbread and homemade banana pudding. We can tell the difference from store-bought, can’t you? Why sure you can!

The trip down to “Nawlins” had been just lovely, good roads, great scenery and friendly folks. Then, we hit the big town, and everything was about to change, as my map duties went full-throttle. I exercised my “pointer finger” and delved deep into my map-reading expertise. I admit I felt very confident.

As we arrived at our destination, the fancy hotel in downtown “Nawlins,” the name of the street was correct, but gosh, our hotel was not to be found! So we drove around the block, and in that big town the drive can be equated to about 40 minutes. We reread the map and followed the directions, we thought, to the ninth degree, but no fancy hotel was to be seen.

Well, after one more drive “around the block,” we thought we might have arrived at Mars or Venus by mistake. I mean, we were clearly at the right address, but there was no prize-winning hotel in sight.

My husband’s face had reached the color of “rooster red,” but not nearly as cocky, when I suggested stopping. I would walk inside the building situated at the address of our free-gifted hotel.

As I pulled on the big brass door latch to let myself in, I ran almost directly into, I suppose, an employee. I asked, “Where is the hotel?” Before I could finish my inquiry, the employee, who had obviously had this question before, answered. “Oh, it has moved and he quoted a new address!”

Hot dog! It was not my fault after all, even though I could have easily been guilty. But this time, nope not me!

So the other day on a day-trip with two of my friendgirls (and I was driving) did I speculate, even for a minute, that we were lost? No, no, no! We girls arrived to our destination just as the map indicated … but then, there was the guy we asked if he could help us with a highway number and he answered with bugged eyes, “No speak-a the language!”

That was close. Not to worry, though, Map Reading 101 is still my game!



Anne McKee is a retiree and free-lance writer who lives in Meridian.