My Internal Compass

I have a nearly impecable sense of direction on a normal day in most places in entire world . . . except when driving around Ft. Lauderdale, FL.

Any time I am there, I have no idea where I am or how to get anywhere. I don't understand it.

I think it's because the ocean is on the wrong side. I'm more familiar with where the ocean is on the California side. It's on the left. In Florida, it's just all wrong.

In Colorado, I am never lost because the mountains are always on the left. Unless you are in them. Then things get a little tricky, but still manageable.

And anywhere else, give me a few minutes and a map and I can find my way around just fine.

But Ft. Lauderdale is like the Bermuda Triangle for my internal compass. I'm a complete direction disaster.

It's embarrassing, really. I pride myself on being able to successfully navigate in any situation.

I have led people through cities where none of us reside, and I've even led people through cities where they reside but I don't. I've led groups of children through mountains in my younger days at camp. I even made up stories about Daniel Boone and bears along the way, just for fun. I've made my way through foreign countries where neither maps nor people speak english.

So . . . what is up, Ft. Lauderdale. Why must you torment me in this way?

One day . . . I will win in Ft. Lauderdale. Mark my words.

C.T.