Can't Find My Way Home

And I ain't done nothing wrong,
But I can't find my way home.
--Steve Winwood

When I got off work Wednesday night, I saw that the route I always take home was blocked off by the police and fire department. I later learned that there had been a series of underground electrical explosions up the street knocking out power to some of the buildings in the vicinity and blowing a manhole cover into the air, causing injury to the occupant of a pickup truck driving by at the time. I'm glad I wasn't in the same place at the same time in my little car as that pickup was when that manhole cover went flying. I'm also glad that my wife answered the phone when I called to ask for alternate directions home.

I've written pretty extensively in this blog about my learning disabilities. One of them is that I'm profoundly navigationally impaired, and even more so in the darkness of night. Had my wife not been able to direct me, I don't know how I would have made it home. I would have probably driven around aimlessly until my desperation overcame my reluctance and I stopped somewhere to ask for directions. But it's not so easy to get directions after midnight, and, besides, I hate asking for directions. Not just because I'm a man, but also because I have inordinate difficulty understanding and following directions of all kinds.

So. like I said, I'm glad my wife was home and that she doesn't have the same problem I do. Next time I can't find my way home or wherever else I need to go, I intend to have my electronic navigator with me, just in case my spousal navigator isn't available.

Blind Faith--Can't Find My Way Home--1969