The world is topographically disconnected. Once aloft, we lose our moorings. Once at large, we are easily spun around and lose our bearings, so that all the topoi we might visit are discreet and related by their ups & downs only, rather than by their lefts & rights. The Chinese abhor the map, anyplace beyond the horizon of a shortsighted man throws them into panic. Walking the distance may help, riding it helps some more. I will discuss driving promptly. But once aloft, or at large, we become antsy, panic stricken, or just plain lost.
Humanity has always been trying to overcome this congenital impediment, only recently making some progress with such inventions as the compass, the sextant, the map, and the most perilous of them all, i.e. asking for directions. (There used to be a sign in my country store, now defunct: “Directions, $.50. Correct directions, $1.00”). Sufficient progress for the average man, not just the adventurous sort, arrived with public transportation. Knowing one’s starting point and final destination is all it takes to get there. However, with the invention of private automobile, we are again at the mercy of random luck whenever we leave our daily commutes. Some of us, in addition, have to fight the random cruelty of GPS devices. At worst, we may end up on the bottom of a lake. At best, we may end up in the middle of nowhere. Notoriously, it is impossible to drive out of Boston. I’ve tried many times and if not for some luck and enough gas in my tank, I would still be there.
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