Hey Siri? Tell me the fastest, least windy way to get from point A to point B

I took a new route to pick up my son at the airport, and I did it without Siri’s voice guiding me.

Choosing different highways was not an exercise in adventure. My old trusty routine was out because the entrance ramp from 635 to I-29 north is currently in granola form.

How did I know about this complication? A few months ago, my husband and I discovered the deconstruction site the hard way, when I had an inhumane predawn flight. The detour signs were sparse. I had to scramble for my cell phone, which was in sputtering mode, because I had yanked it from the bedroom socket while it was updating. This is the glory of leaving home during vampire hours.

I don’t know how I made that flight, but I didn’t need 4:50 a.m. stress. The upside was it gave me an opportunity to gloat about why I always request extra airport drop-off buffer time. Also, the experience reinforced my resistance to absolute phone reliance.

So seven weeks later, when it was time to pick up my son, I knew to avoid that 635 detour. At the risk of sounding like a Californian, my plan was to take the 435 to the 152, then hop on the 29 further north. I guarantee you most drivers now, and especially young adults, would never spit out the connecting highways like that either before, during or after a trip.

But when I drive anywhere new, I’m like a 1960’s dad in a plaid shirt, planning ahead while clutching a Rand McNally map. “Looks like we have a cloverleaf exit ramp here, then a full-diamond interchange there.”

I almost recognize myself in that hilarious insurance commercial where the fictional self-help seminar guy, “Dr. Rick,” tries to stop people from becoming their parents. He teaches others to be hip, tech savvy beings. He sarcastically says to the crowd, “If you printed out directions to get here today, you’re in the right place.”

I have (mostly) outgrown the old MapQuest printout habit, but I often jot down the basics on a handy index card. So many folks now rely exclusively on a disembodied cell phone voice telling them where to go. That’s terrifying. I constantly remind my sons if they’re in a new city or even heading to an unfamiliar place around here, they should check a digital overview map first just to have a general idea. You never know when a phone might glitch.

And that’s exactly what happened on this recent airport pick-up. Which means within weeks twice — twice — my phone was blabbing when I really could have used it for emotional backup.

Just before I left the house, I checked the alternate route on my desktop and scribbled the basics on an index card. (Index cards are the new MapQuest printouts.) But yes, I also programmed my phone. I admit it’s nice to have the Siri voice alerting me when to turn so I can skip glancing at my carved stone hieroglyphics.

However, I was in the middle of 435’s million lanes during rush hour when Siri blurted, as if I were cruising on a sleepy residential street, “In 800 feet, turn left onto Antioch.” What? There was no left turn. Just Fed Ex trailers and cement trucks rolling at high speeds in both directions on either side of me. Several more times on that trip my phone drunkenly told me to turn here or there when nothing made sense. Thankfully, my pre-drive map check and inner pigeon got me to my destination. I did not need Siri’s voice, but it would have been nice.

I mentioned these weird glitches to the younger folks in my life. They theorized a phone might get wacky if the driver moves it around, say from one’s purse to a cupholder to a dashboard perch. A recalibration thing?

Maybe I need to attend of those hip,tech savvy “Dr. Rick Parentology” seminars. But they’re as unreal as Siri.

Reach Denise Snodell at stripmalltree@gmail.com