Why Humans, Specifically My Husband, Get Lost.

We are out of practice.

Our survival, for the most part, no longer depends upon our directional abilities.

According to Tom Mahood, a physicist turned adventurer:

Humans get lost in part because we don’t pay attention and have lost ancient ways of reading the environment to navigate. But humans’ way-finding abilities are also less precise than the abilities of other animals.

As my husband will tell you, unless I’m in an underground parking garage, I can navigate. I have a good sense of direction. Some of it is innate. Some of it is because I pay attention to my surroundings. I check out landmarks. I look back at where I’ve been. I pay close attention to how I get somewhere new.

When I was a kid I read a book about finding your way in the woods. I learned, for instance, moss tends to grow on the north side of a tree. Along the coast the west winds are so strong trees will lean east. While the sun always travels east to west, in the winter it is lower in the southern sky and in the summer it travels across the northern sky.

I learned the brightest star in the Little Dipper is Polaris, the Northern Star, and it pretty much points to the earth’s north pole.

Anyway I’m pretty good at getting there and back again.

My husband is not. My idea of hell is sitting in the passenger seat as he attempts to navigate through San Francisco. It’s quite a trip in more ways than one. But at least we didn’t scream at each other this time. We worked together to get where we wanted to go.

This and that:

We were in San Francisco to see Jersey Boys! I couldn’t resist. We saw the London version with Tom and Ishbel and I loved the musical so much I had to go back again. The London version was way better, except Tommy Devito is the same kind of great on both sides of the pond. But as my husband says, that’s always the risk you take when you try to repeat an experience. Or, as Thomas Wolfe says, You can’t go home again. Still, the evening was fun.

So since my husband has such a big antenna I made him check out the noise in the garage at 3:38 a.m. Usually it’s the dog and me checking out any nighttime noises.

3:38 a.m. Dog barking like a maniac. I can tell from the muffled sound he has his head stuck out the cat door into the garage.

3:40 a.m. Hubby goes downstairs and brings the barking dog upstairs.

3:42 a.m. I ask hubby if he checked in the garage.

“No.”

Me - “Why not? There’s probably a raccoon in there or something.”

Him - “So what?”

Me - “What if it’s more than a raccoon?”

Him - “As in?”

Me - “A person.”

Him - “Why would a person be in our garage?”

Me - “Because remember? I left the side door unlocked.”

Him - “Why’d you leave the side door unlocked?”

Me - “Because after the power failure I left it open in case we couldn’t get the garage door back open and so you could go out and play basketball with the dog.”

Him - “Why would I do that? It’s daylight savings time now. New basketball schedule.”

Me - “Because you always go out around 9 p.m. and despite daylight savings time it’s still dark at 9 p.m. And why are we arguing? It’s…” I glance at the clock… “4:47 in the morning and you could have already checked out the garage and been back in bed by now.”

Him - “I didn’t go out at 9 p.m. Jake and I went out around 7. I don’t see why I have to check out the garage. You’re the one who left the door unlocked.”

Me - “You have to check out the garage because you’re the guy. You’re the one with the big antenna. Now get to checking!”

Him - “Damn. I had to mention my antenna.”

I hear grumbling all the way down the hall.

Me - “Hey, with big antennas come big responsibilities. If you’re scared take the dog with you.”

Jake singing to the Jersey Boys soundtrack.