late January. My wife gently nudged me into a semi-conscious state to share
the news that our first child was actively on the way. In my stupor, I
thoughtfully suggested that since the contractions would likely take a few
hours to pick up steam, we could go back to sleep. I did just that. She did
not.
A restful night is difficult when your better half keeps reminding you that
she is about to give birth. I finally got up, and like any good computer
nerd, I rushed into my study, fired up my Macintosh II and printed out a
spreadsheet where I could log the time, duration, and intensity of each and
every contraction. To the guy-side of my brain, this seemed like a perfectly
good idea.
By sunrise, my wife thought it advisable to move carefully into our
Oldsmobile Cutlass and drive to her obstetrician's office. As I had not
driven a car for more than a decade, I simply smiled encouragingly from the
passenger side as she stopped the car every few blocks to breathe through
another contraction. After the exam, the doctor said we should go home and
wait a few more hours. Haltingly, my wife drove us back. I did my part -- I
made notes on my spreadsheet.
Around noon, my carefully constructed charts indicated that it was time to
go to the hospital. Amazingly, my spouse already knew. Fortunately, I had
asked a neighbor to be our emergency transportation. We made good time and
shortly thereafter waddled into the emergency entrance. We quickly checked
in and waited in the hallway for the Labor and Delivery staff. The nurses
brought out a wheelchair and whisked my wife down the long corridor. For
several moments, I stood there dumbfounded. I could not move. The nursing
staff continued to rush down the hall. The sound of rubber wheels on tile
and the nurse's squeaky white shoes rapidly faded as they approached the
elevators. I heard the doors whoosh open and then close. My wife was gone. I
was stuck in the middle of nowhere with only a stupid spreadsheet. I had
forgotten my white cane.
I have spent much of my life successfully getting lost. Indoors or outdoors,
I am really quite good at it. I have unexpectedly run down a flight of
stairs in the Texas State Capitol. I have stumbled half-frozen down wintry
Minneapolis streets hunting for my hotel. I have tried to find the master
bathroom in my own house, in the middle of the night, and then wondered why
it was surprisingly small, fully carpeted, with rows of clothes hanging on
both sides.
Developing strong orientation and mobility skills was an exciting challenge
as my vision failed. I was an adept cane user for many years and I've been a
confident and content guide dog handler for even longer. I have enjoyed
decades of independent travel across the country and have always managed to
make it home alive and uninjured. Even so, I have sat down, in many
different places, with my arm over my guide dog's shoulders, pretending that
we actually knew exactly where we were.
Still, canes and dogs have their limitations. For much of my adult life, one
of my pet peeves has been going places in our family car, with no idea of
where I might actually be. For me, our minivan was an opaque vibrating box
and everything outside was a mystery. Although my wife has offered to
narrate routes, I could not imagine that being fun for her. So, I just
played the role of passenger with a virtual bag over my head. Although I
almost always recognized the steep hill that climbs into our neighborhood,
much of the time, I have remained ignorant and waited for the cheap thrill
of the occasional speed bump.
I have often imagined the utility of knowing exactly where I was, especially
when traveling alone in different cities. In 2010 and 2011, I was traveling
more than ever and periodically found myself paying wildly divergent fares
for identical trips. Since I was always accompanied by my iPhone 4S, I
decided to hunt for a GPS app that might tell me in real time exactly where
I was en route.
I bought Navigon, my first iPhone GPS app. My needs were simple. I did not
need turn by turn navigation. I did not desire walking directions. I just
wanted to know where I was when traveling in a car, cab or other conveyance.
Back then, I could not find a simple way in my app to limit audible feedback
to what road I was on and what streets I was crossing. However, I did
discover an awkward workaround. If I set the destination to the place I was
leaving, Navigon would sound like an emotional wreck constantly telling me
each and every street that I could take to turn around. Clumsy, but
informative.
In time, I did find a tool more to my liking. I learned about Blind Square
through AppleVis and was intrigued. I purchased the app and was initially
overwhelmed. It blabbered like a three year old on sugar. It insisted on
telling me everything about every landmark or point of interest, whether it
was accurate or not. However, in short order, I had tweaked the settings so
that I only heard what street I was on, what direction I was traveling, and
what intersections I crossed. Once constrained, I delighted in what Blind
Square had to tell me.
Of course, I am always looking for the next best thing. Several weeks ago, I
heard of a promising new iOS GPS package. I spent a few days reading about
Nearby Explorer on the AppleVis forum and convinced myself that I needed the
new tool. I decided to consider this acquisition as a birthday present. It
was not cheap and it was not my birthday, but my manufactured excuse was all
I needed. I pressed the Buy button.
Nearby Explorer has been fun. From its Home screen, I can very easily adjust
what subset of location information I'd like to hear. Although it offers
destination navigation, I am most happy when I just know where I am. There
is still much left for me to explore within this app. Right now, its maps
are limited to the US and Canada, but I would love to someday take it to
Nagpur and Paris.
Even though my canes last forever, and my guide dogs keep me forever safe,
there is a definite benefit in knowing exactly where I am located on the
planet. And, the ideal place for a GPS app is on the one tool I carry with
me everywhere, my iPhone. Nowadays, most of the time, I can actually figure
out where I am and where I need to go. Eventually, fortunately, I always
seem to end up where I belong. On that fateful day back in 1988, I did
manage to get some directions and a guide to Labor and Delivery. I found my
wife and together, several hours later, we greeted our dear son. Thankfully,
as my son grew up, I never lost him. Well, not too often.
Morgan Watkins spent thirty years at the University of Texas at Austin, most
of it in information technology leadership. He also enjoyed thirteen years
on the Board of Directors at Guide Dogs for the Blind. After retiring from
the University , Morgan served as the Guide Dogs for the Blind Acting
President and CEO.
Morgan is now happily retired again, playing with his dog and writing for
pleasure. Morgan has created thirteen other blogs for AppleVis, including
<http://www.applevis.com/blog/iphone-opinion/sleeping-stars-old-time-radio-a
nd-my-iphone> "Sleeping With The Stars: Old Time Radio and my iPhone",
<http://www.applevis.com/blog/apple-iphone-opinion/small-talk-speaking-voice
over-and-iphone> "Small Talk: Speaking up on VoiceOver and the iPhone" and
<http://www.applevis.com/blog/advocacy-apple-iphone-opinion/lesson-learned-i
phones-and-orange-bugs> "Lesson Learned: iPhones and Orange Bugs".
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