Even though I’m old, I’m not that old. I say that because I have yet to succumb to one of the main pillars of old age—the need for driving directions. Now it may be the folly of the microscopic amount of youth I still have left or just a product of a neurosis, but I deplore directions—can’t stand’em! I hate giving them, receiving them or reading them. If you don’t know how to get somewhere, you shouldn’t be going. You should innately know how to get to from point A to point B. It doesn’t matter if you’re in your hometown or in a strange city, intimate knowledge of a conurbation’s infrastructure should be instinctive! I may be a little bold in holding this belief but I’m also never lost.
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