Things I was wrong about: GPS in cars

Beginning with butt heaters and remote controls, my wildly popular “Things I was wrong about series” continues.

You’re welcome.

Here’s a little number you may not have heard before: $965 million. That’s how much is being requested in the 2016 federal budget for the Global Positioning Satellite (GPS) Program. It covers both military and civilian positioning satellites.

So you say “what does that have to do with me?” Well, you know that navigation touch screen in your car, the eight-inch color one that gives you the shortest route to Whole Foods and the Prius dealer, plus real time traffic reports so you know when to start swearing on the 405? It gets all that information from those GPS satellites orbiting over your pretty, lost little head.

There was a time, a primitive time, a bygone time, when I didn’t have a car with a nav screen. My feeling was exactly how freakin’ lost do you have to be that you need a bazillion dollar satellite network, in medium earth orbit 12,500 miles overhead, to get you where you’re going.

Like I said, this was before I had a nav screen. Now, I like to file it under how did I ever live without it.

Sure, I used to be one of those drivers who relied on my common sense, finely honed sense of direction, knowledge of roadside landmarks and social skills (I asked) to figure out how to get where I was going if I didn’t know. But seriously, all that thinking and resourcefulness just made my head hurt.

Now I can just punch in an address, and one of two voices – a woman’s voice I’ve named Priscilla, or a man’s voice I haven’t named – will guide me turn by turn, offramp by offramp, street by street to within about 200 feet of my destination. I think if I’d ponied up for the more expensive Mark Levinson sound system it would’ve guided me to the front door. Whatever. I see it as a chance to use those rusty common sense skills.

Private roads, dirt roads, toll roads, I drive with the confidence of knowing Priscilla will get me where I need to be.

So here it is, the part you've been waiting for. Yes, I was wrong about navigation in cars.

As much as it hurts to admit it, and it doesn't hurt that much, I'd be lost without it.

Whole hell

Eating the right things takes a discipline I greatly admire and sadly lack. I'd do it more often if I could, except I fear the shock of ingesting healthy food might be too much for my body.

However, like most people, I'm not going out of my way to actively search out food loaded with pesticides, food coloring and hormones.

By the way, how do you make a hormone?

If the chickens eggs come from are free-range and cruelty-free, I'm all for it. That being said, I think we can agree that after all is said and done, it's still food. And when it comes to food, there are some things that just go against the laws of nature.

Don't pay her (read back, it'll come to you).

On the way home from lunch today, my wife wanted to stop at Whole Foods. I wanted to wait in the car. Guess who won? I don't go in there very often because all that "healthy" food just makes me feel bad on so many levels. But today I'm glad I went in, if only to reinforce my decision not to go in all the other times.

I don't think I have to tell you people how much I love bacon. I've already told you here. Just to reiterate, you know what bacon has that's good for you? Nothing. That's why it's bacon. That's why it's awesome. If I wanted my bacon to be healthy, I wouldn't be eating bacon in the first place.

So when I saw this sign, it made me sicker than the chemicals in real bacon - you know, the good bacon. No one on God's green earth is eating bacon and thinking that it's healthy for them in some way. Selling a form of it that is, or trying to make people think that way is like putting earrings on a pig.

I know, it was a long run for a short slide. But worth it.

As I walked the aisles, I found myself wondering who hurt the store's food buyer when they were a child. Obviously someone did. How else do you explain the shelves being stocked to the rafters with things that should taste good, but don't.

Case in point: Pizza. Like bacon, pizza isn't supposed to be good for you or healthy or low-fat. It's supposed to be pizza.

It's also not supposed to be called Tofurky (actually that applies to anything you eat). Non-dairy cheese? Meatless and delicious? As if these words weren't enough to make your head (and stomach) hurt, there's one word on the box that's like Kryptonite to anyone who enjoys food with...what's the word?...oh yeah, flavor.

That word, reversed out in capital letters, is VEGAN.

Now, some of my best friends are vegans. Some of my better ones aren't. And some of my friends that once were are no longer.

I can appreciate not wanting to consume animal products in any form. And I'd never advocate cruelty to animals in any way. But here's the thing: when I'm having my burger at Five Guys, the truth is the cow was dead before I got there. I'm just seeing to it that he didn't die in vain.

Alas, even Whole Foods knows their shoppers aren't always disciplined enough to stay on the straight and narrow. They know occasionally, something from a real market must make its way to the floor, if only as a bait-and-switch lure to get customers to stock up on the Kale Chips.

Vegans like barley and oats, right?