Average Joe: Modern attitudes about maps are driving me up the wall

You’d better be sitting down, because I am about to rock your world with some startling information about America’s interstate highway grid.

It seems that there was an actual system devised to assign the numbering. They didn’t just, you know, assign random digits. I’m serious. Check this out: The major east-west highways all end with the number zero, and the higher the multiple of 10, the farther north it is in the 48 contiguous states.

Now, prepare to collect your jaw off the floor after this tasty little revelation: East-west interstates are typically even numbers, while north-south are — you guessed it — odd.

You might be wondering how I came into possession of such astonishing factoids, so I’ll go ahead and spill. I saw it in a viral web post. Yep. There are a couple of different versions of it zooming across social media at this very moment. And it’s about time. We need to expose the keepers of secret geographic knowledge for the greedy misers that they are and get this valuable info into the hands of the people.

Hmm. You’re scratching your head. Why?

Oh. You already knew all this. You are not impressed. In fact, it almost seems to you as though I’m being a little facetious here. Like I already knew all of this, too.

Well, yeah, I did.

But I’m both amused and horrified by the ridiculous conceit of these posts: “They didn’t want you to know this, but we’re going to share it anyway… ” 

Baloney. Pure hogwash. It’s far more likely the case that you zoned out during driver’s ed if you missed learning this stuff the first time around. Trust me, they (whoever “they” are) want you to know this. It can be very helpful. The more that people know about the roads we’re all traveling, the better off we are.

Which brings us to what’s really been bothering me lately. It isn’t those silly pass-around social media posts about the secret map of America’s superhighway system. It is, however, related to maps. Yet, if I say this pet peeve out loud, there’s just no going back. Because once you’ve reached the age when you actually hear yourself muttering things like “kids these days really ought to… (insert your complaint here),” it’s like listening to the last groaning belch of your enchanted youth circling the drain of your out-of-order fountain. When I say what I have to say, I will officially become eligible for my curmudgeon card.

Aw, phooey, consequences be damned. I’m just going to say it. But I’m going to do it right; I’ll wag my finger and get downright preachy/folksy in proclaiming my cranky observation.

Here goes: Aaaaand another thing …. Kids these days really ought to develop a healthy respect for maps and navigation. Yessiree!

Nickelodeon spawned an unwitting culprit

Whatever happened to the fold-out map? Don’t even bother trying to answer that question. I’m pretty sure I know who ruined maps for a couple of generations of young people. It’s easy to try to pin this one on that darn internet, but I think technology is a red herring. This little Clue mystery points to the culprit being none other than Dora the Explorer. In the woods. With the backpack.

I’ll accept that her crime was accidental; one of the great things about that cartoon series was that it sincerely sought to help kids gain an appreciation for navigation. That backfired, however, when Dora reached into her backpack and pulled out the world’s most annoying cartographic scroll. Every. Single. Episode.

Sing the chorus with me if you know it: “I’m the map, I’m the map, I’m the map, I’m the map, I’m the map, I’m the map, I’m the map, I’m the map, I’m the map!”

Can there be any wonder why people in their late 20s and younger have such an aversion to maps? (We parents were afflicted, too!) You did this to us, Dora. I hope you can live with your animated self after that truth bomb.

Thank goodness, then, for GPS and smartphone navigation apps that spare us from ever having to struggle with trying to refold those impossible maps again. Who has the patience for that?

I’ll be the first to admit to using apps for navigation. They’re great at delivering turn-by-turn directions and can even adjust in real time if an accident creates detours. But they’re such a useful shortcut that they make it frighteningly easy to take you to places without you ever having to know where you’ve been. This is one of the toughest things to get the teenage drivers in my household to understand.

Where the streets have no names

I’m a person with an unstoppable tendency to cite song lyrics, so I like to drop a Diana Ross verse on my son whenever he wants to borrow the car.

“Do you know where you’re going to?”

He does not know. And he fiercely defends his right to not know, since all he needs to do is pair his smartphone to the car’s Bluetooth audio and listen to the steps on a navigation app.

“What street are we driving down right now?” (I ask this on West Market Street.)

“I don’t know.”

“What city are we in?” (I ask this after we cross from Akron into Cuyahoga Falls.)

“I don’t know.” Then comes the protest. “But I shouldn’t have to know these things since the app is going to get me where I need to be.”

Before he sets out for a sports practice in Hudson, I ask him to point in that city’s general direction. He scrunches up his face to the standard puzzled expression. Then he extends his pointer finger and slowly revolves his body three-quarters of the way around on the spot where he stands. After that he sweeps back around the other way — settling on no direction in particular.

“That way?”

My heart breaks. How could this be happening? I grew up with my nose parked inside of road atlases, endlessly fascinated with the logistics of getting from one place to another. My older brothers working at the Akron Auto Club would bring home AAA maps and TripTiks all the time. The look I’d get when they’d bring a new Akron/Summit County map was the same one Charlie Bucket gets when he peels open a Wonka Bar to find a golden ticket.

It's a deflating feeling, knowing that nowadays people eschew actually learning geography in favor of listening to artificial intelligence instructing their every move. Program an address, and you’re all set. “At the next stop light, turn left. In three-quarters of a mile, your destination will be on your right. … You’ve arrived.”

Sigh. That’s just too easy. Something’s amiss.

The missing piece

There’s no putting this GPS genie back in the bottle. Google Maps are here to stay, and they’re really quite handy. But you young’uns out there will make parents such as myself so pleased if you can find a way to take these great tools and teach yourself a sense of place; really try to get to know your setting.

Take the time to peruse maps, electronic or on paper, to learn your neighborhood. Then, learn the main roads that fan out from it. Study the neighborhoods that surround it. And familiarize yourself with the next layer of cities and towns that radiate out from there. Look for the railroads, rivers, canals, streams, lakes, hills, valleys and other topographic features. These landmarks help explain why we live where we live — how communities sprang forth where they did.

Get curious. And get up the nerve to try going out there without navigation every so often. Learn the roads well enough to allow yourself to get a little lost and discover your way back. Remember that even though Dora seemed to beat you over the head every day with her map, she is at heart an explorer. She gets off-track all the time and still finds her way. Can you find your way? Say it with me: I can find my way!

And if you ever get seriously lost, just keep driving until you reach any ol’ interstate. Fall back on that precious knowledge that the memes divulged to you about how the system works. You’ll be back on track in no time. But, um, maybe that also would be a good time to turn the app back on. See? The internet really is good for something. Oh, the places you’ll go.

When he isn’t toiling away as the Beacon Journal metro editor, you can occasionally find Joe Thomas musing about everyday life as the Average Joe. Reach him at jthomas@thebeaconjournal.com 

Average Joe on fatherhood: There's always room for more love in the heart of a dad

Average Joe, wildlife freak: Who needs Netflix when the bird feeder is hopping with natural entertainment?

Average Joe takes a poll: Attention, Trader Joe's — the Akron area really, really wants you

This article originally appeared on Akron Beacon Journal: Average Joe: Map skills fall casualty to world run by navigation apps