GPS No Thanks

GPS, thanks, but no thank you. I don’t know why anyone would want to own one of those things. I mean, come on, can’t anyone read a map anymore? Probably the better question is, doesn’t anyone own a map anymore? I certainly would never leave home without one. Of course, I seldom leave the town I grew up in, so after fifty-plus years, I know my way around pretty darn well. If I happen to get turned around, I can always stop at a gas station or convenience store and ask for directions. Most of the clerks will lend a hand. They’ll pull out their phones and get directions for me. It’s better for them to do it than me. Besides, I don’t own a cell phone.

That’s right, no phone and no GPS. I bet you’re wondering what’s up with this guy. Well, you might think it’s okay to be tracked by the government and big business, but I don’t. If you have either of those things, your privacy no longer exists. Every time you leave your house, those evil toys transmit a signal to a tracking station run by one of those government alphabet agencies.

Another thing I would never own is an in-home security system or one of those Alexa boxes. You might as well hand Big Brother the keys to your house if you own one of those. Oh, wait, they don’t need keys because they’re already inside. Smart T.V., smart refrigerator, a robot to vacuum your floors, it’s all one big master plan to spy on us. Okay, I may sound a little paranoid, but I’m just being cautious. Let me give you an example.

I needed to take a trip to a neighboring state. I pulled out my trusty road map to plot my route. It was printed in 1995, but it’s not like roads are picked up and moved to new locations. I was feeling secure that I wasn’t being tracked until I turned onto a main road and spotted a camera atop a light pole. Those pole cameras are the very reason I have my license plate numbers obscured with a sheet of hazy plastic. Those government boys needed to be smarter than that to track me.

All went well until I reached my exit. The exit on the map no longer existed. Someone had shut the exit down and moved it to a new spot five miles down the road. This alternative exit dumped me directly in front of a toll booth. Once again, there were more cameras I had to hide from. I pulled my hat down as low as I could and raised my shirt collar for a makeshift disguise. I only hope it worked. From there, it was back to city street cameras, building surveillance systems, and patrol cars.

By now you might ask what would make me risk my privacy like this? Only one thing on the planet would get me to risk it all, a QAnon convention.