Maps....one would think these to be self-explanatory, but rest assured, I have something to say about this subject too.

....like the days of the horse and buggy, and the rabid thumping of John Henrys' cholesterol ravaged arteries,
maps will one day too, cease to exist through the vagaries of engineers plying the throbbing heart cries of those
who seek dependance upon electronic, navigational dominatrices. It was, apparently, never enough for man to enjoy hearing the 'suggestions' of his paramour, urging him to 'turn left here', or ' stop here honey, they have the cutest things'.
Noooooo,.......that wasn't good enough.
We had to augment our suffering with a phony surrogate mate, who could always 'be there' for us.

GPS systems are basically akin to getting a lobotomy. Try getting your sense of direction back after you've been using one of those things, and the battery goes dead somewhere in 'rural' Idaho. I can't say what a friend called that town in mixed company, but anyway, one day, the heroic will emerge with an ancient, stained fragment of softly wrinkled parchment
with which
to guide the pilgrims to safety...and chances are, that the words:

' © Whitney Lake Associates ',

.......will still be visible as a reminder of the days when men were men.

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