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The Citizen, 2010-09-02, Page 5THE CITIZEN, THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 2, 2010. PAGE 5. Technology is the knack of organizing the world so that we don’t have to experience it. – Max Frisch So I’m taking this extended road trip down into Washington/Oregon -- the top left-hand corner of America, if you will. It is unfamiliar territory to me. I envision vast carpets of forests and rivers and snow-capped mountain ranges, not to mention unpredictable encounters with hostile grizzlies – some with fur and claws, others with HOMELAND SECURITY on their shoulder flashes and Glock Nines on their hips. Nervous? Well, maybe a little. I don’t know this turf at all and my reputation for finding my way will never get me confused with the likes of Alex Mackenzie or George Vancouver. I can navigate my way through towns and cities okay – even government buildings and department stores – but once the pavement runs out, the street signs disappear and the trees close in I’m in trouble. To quote Daniel Boone, “I can’t say I was ever lost, but I was bewildered once for three days.’ So maybe I was a little nervous at the outset of this trip. My pals Brent and Nancy say, “Why don’t you borrow our GPS?” Yeah, right. Me and a new technological gadget. There’s a marriage made in Eden. I don’t do modern technology if I can help it. I write on a computer because I can no longer find anyone to repair my ancient hunt ‘n peck Olivetti; I tote a cell phone which I never turn on. I don’t pack a Blackberry and no iPod buds plug my aural orifices. I would prefer lathering my naked body in Hellman’s mayonnaise for a stroll through a mosquito- infested bog to tackling something as mind- bending and complicated as a portable Global Positioning System. On the other hand, I don’t want to look any stupider in front of my friends than I already do. I accept their GPS. They show me how it mounts on a little bracket that attaches to the windshield. All I have to do is plug it into the car cigarette lighter and I’m in business, they assure me. Fine, fine – just gimme the damn thing. I figure I’ll stuff it under the front seat, make the trip my usual way, with Rand-McNally maps flapping like pterodactyls all over the car, then give them back their furshligginer GPS when I return. “Couldn’t get it to work,” I’d tell them. “Must need a new battery or something.” But somewhere along the road I look over and notice Ernestine. I don’t always pick up hitchhikers but she was hard to resist. Sleek and sassy, trim and elegant, I was in love from the first words she uttered: “MAKE SLIGHT LEFT TURN IN POINT FIVE KILOMETRES” she purred. It was true! There WAS a left turn in half a kilometre! How could she know that? The rest of the trip was a piece of cake. With Ernestine up front with me, I breezed through Seattle, Portland, the Olympic mountains, the coastal switchbacks. Ernestine’s been everywhere and she’s got a photographic memory. She can tell you where to find a movie house, a historical monument, a bank or gas station. Restaurants? No problem. Did you want Thai or Taco Bell? Five-star or drive-thru? Ernestine knows ‘em all. “TURN RIGHT ON I-95 IN SIX POINT FIVE KILOMETRES” cooed my travelling companion. She definitely pressed my buttons. Or rather, I pressed hers. Ernestine wasn’t flesh and blood. She was – is – a three inch by six inch slab of computer technology that sits above my dashboard and leads me from home to destination and back in a sultry, imperturbable voice. She has an American accent – she says ‘AVEN—OO’ for ‘avenue’ and ‘RA-OWT’ for ‘route’ – and she has this cute lisp that suggests she might have sipped a glass of wine before she went on duty. But mortal, she ain’t. Ernestine is a Magellan Roadmate 1440 Global Positioning gizmo. I named her in honour of Lily Tomlin’s famous telephone operator – although in truth, my Ernestine is much, much nicer. Ernestine and her constantly updated 3-D route display transforms a road trip in ways I could never have imagined. Ernestine banishes travel angst. She makes driving fun again. Even when I screw up, Ernestine is cool and composed. If I drive past a turnoff or overshoot a light she doesn’t groan or have a fit or crumple up the map and stare out the window like, er, some people I could mention. Ernestine simply murmurs calmly ‘AS SOON AS POSSIBLE, MAKE A LEGAL U-TURN.” I have a pal who has another name for his GPS. “Cindy and I call it ‘the marital aid’” he says. “I can’t guess how many times it’s saved our marriage on the road.” True enough. Best of all, even the wife loves Ernestine. Arthur Black Other Views Columnist learns to love GPS This weekend is one that my girlfriend Jess and I have been looking forward to for a long time. My sister’s dogs will be coming up for a visit as she and my mom head to St. Maarten on a well-deserved vacation. Of course it won’t be smiles all around, as my mom sent me pictures on my cell phone of the dogs in her suitcase last week. She chuckled that she was going to take them with her, but I knew that she was only half joking and that she definitely would take them if she could. My mom loves those dogs and as they’ve been with her through some tough times, I’m sure they mean more to her than I will ever know, but everyone else in the family has become quite partial to them too. Jess loves “the boys” too and she is just happy to be around them. The boys, of course, are Frankie and Jake. Frankie is a French Bulldog who is just a few months old and Jake, his “older brother”, is a Boston Terrier who has a few years on Frankie. They get along with each other really well and can be hours and hours of fun, but it’s always nice to be able to send them back with their mom (my sister) when they get rowdy. Jess and I had been considering getting a dog, but we decided to hold off for a little bit longer, as we wanted to make sure that we were absolutely sure. The last thing we would want is to become invested in a pet, only to realize that we both worked too much to handle him and then we would have to send him packing to a brand new home. So over the past few months, we have been kicking names around the office to see who our future dog might be. Jess says she can’t wait to meet him. I had always known what I would call my first dog, so I didn’t even have to think about it, but then as I realized that Jess and I would have to collaborate and more thought should be put into it, the more I began to think. I had always thought that I would name the dog Hector. I think it’s a funny name and my grandfather, being confused and German, often called my old dog, Casey, Hector. So that was something that had always stuck with me. I like the idea of human names on pets, that way you don’t get bogged down with the “Spots” and “Killers” and Fluffies” of the world. Plus, to me, it makes them seem a lot more like a friend, rather than a nuisance pet. So we continued to try out names, going back and forth. I suggested Padraig, Jess suggested Winston and I countered with Ernie. However, I think we finally came to a consensus with Miguel. I have no idea why, but we both seemed to be happy with Miguel. I think Jess likes the idea of calling him Miggie for short. But what’s in a name anyway? While I just said that I like human names for my pets, when my sister picked Jake up, I have to say I was fascinated with his “name” at the time. Dana bought Jake from a Korean couple in Toronto. The couple was moving to a new apartment where they would be unable to keep a pet, so they had to find a new home for their little one-year-old... Dolkong. Sure Dolkong may sound funny, but it packs a mean punch. Literally. In Korean, it means, “small, but strong” which is a perfect description for Jake. So if we call something Jake, who knows what you’re getting? But with Dolkong, after translation, a certain picture is painted. I guess it’s too bad our language doesn’t allow for all-inclusive, descriptive names like Dolkong. Who knows what we could come up with? Ex-premiers overlooked King (Dol)Kong Ontario now has a university library named after former premier Mike Harris, but when will it get around to remembering Bob Rae and David Peterson? Both Rae and Peterson preceded Harris as premiers, so it might be thought their time to have something concrete or at least bricks and mortar named in their honour has come. But naming places after politicians can be controversial, as those advocating the distinction for Progressive Conservative Harris discovered, in his case because he often fought others in education including teachers. Any proposal to remember Rae, who was a New Democrat when premier, would stir resentment among non-New Democrats who recall his massive spending in government, and today’s NDPers who regard him as a renegade, because he left their party seeking better personal opportunities with the traditionally more successful federal Liberals. A proposal to commemorate Peterson would meet less opposition, but not much enthusiasm, because his time as premier did not bring any notable advance and he frittered away his chance to continue and tended to be frivolous. He once quipped “maybe they will name an outhouse after me.” The trend once was to name provincial buildings after premiers and Leslie Frost, Mitchell Hepburn, Oliver Mowat, James P. Whitney and John S. Macdonald have buildings in the Queen’s Park complex named after them. But the province is not building these days and unlikely to be soon, because of cost. The last ex-premier before Harris to be commemorated was Frank Miller, who held the office for a few months in 1985, and this was by a municipality, not the province The District of Muskoka, where he lived most of his life, named a scenic route through its lakes and forests The Frank Miller Memorial Route, which would have pleased the unusually modest Miller, who sold cars while an MPP and was not too proud to kneel on buyers’ driveways and screw on their licence plates. The province named a medical research institute, specializing in stroke and heart disease, after Conservative premier John Robarts, who killed himself after suffering a series of strokes. Robarts’s name is remembered more through the fortress-like Robarts Library at the University of Toronto. He once remarked good-humouredly “it’s the ugliest building in the city and it has my damned name on it." Conservative William Davis probably has more named after him than any other ex- premier. There are William Davis schools everywhere. Friends and particularly provincial employees set up a fund to provide scholarships to help educate promising children of provincial employees, A Toronto centre for geriatric care named a wing after him and University of Waterloo named a computer research centre after him. There was also a move to name the domed sports stadium, perhaps the most renowned new building in Toronto in the 1980s, after Davis. Those supporting it included Peterson, then premier, who said Davis was the driving force behind the dome’s construction and the province’s greatest sports fan, and “frequently has been seen braving the chill winds blowing off Lake Ontario to lend his support to sports." But others objected Davis was a latecomer and the building became known as the SkyDome. Davis probably relished most the province’s naming of a courthouse in Brampton after him and his father, Grenville Davis, which may seem minor because Davis was the longest- serving premier of recent decades. But it was appropriate, because father and son both began practising law there and the son never made a speech as premier without referring to Brampton and was known as “Brampton Billy." But those who have buildings named after them also run risks. The province opened a centre last year to house problem youth and named it the Roy McMurtry Youth Centre after the former attorney general and chief justice and so many violent crimes have been committed there media have called it a “hellhole.” Few public figures would want their names attached to that. EricDowd FFrroomm QQuueeeenn’’ss PPaarrkk Shawn Loughlin SShhaawwnn’’ss SSeennssee Letters Policy The Citizen welcomes letters to the editor. Letters must be signed and should include a daytime telephone number for the purpose of verification only. Letters that are not signed will not be printed. Submissions may be edited for length, clarity and content, using fair comment as our guideline. The Citizen reserves the right to refuse any letter on the basis of unfair bias, prejudice or inaccurate information. As well, letters can only be printed as space allows. Please keep your letters brief and concise.