We were late for Lynn’s birthday party, having left Woodbridge with an hour to spare. Rosanne had dialed up, or whatever you do with the GPS, something I refrain from using unless I’m absolutely lost.
Roe uses it whenever she feels it’s the best way to go and not waste time.
We were heading into unknown territory going northwest toward a restaurant called Mono Cliffs Inn. Before leaving, she had plugged the information into GPS, and waited for it to adjust itself. It finally coughed out directions.
It’s the verbal instructions I dislike, with the GPS telling me to take the next left , some 75 kilometres straight ahead. Then reminds us every few minutes where we’re at: with 72 kms to go. 64 kms. Once it even told us, not this time, to make a ‘u’ turn on a highway with eight busy lanes.
God knows how many twists and turns we made the other night. We seemed in the middle of nowhere when the voice piped up, “You are approaching Mono Cliffs on your left.”
The dinner party was in full swing when we arrived a tad late. Lynn greeted us with warm hugs, showing no signs of getting older, as birthdays are wont to do.
I was seated next to Joe Matyas who I’ve met on many occasions when visiting Creemore, Ontario. He retired from spending some 40 years as a newspaper reporter with the London Free Press. I had started with the St. Thomas Times-Journal in the same general area.
I knew Joe’s wife Sue, sitting with Roe toward the other end of the table, was a United church minister. What I didn’t know, Joe was writing and performing live skits during many of the church services. To the absolute delight, I’m told, of the congregation.
Author’s comment: The evening was held in the downstairs pub of the small, intimate restaurant with Lynn being her delightful self, with her slightly off-of-wall sense of humor. Something I'd never expect from a former high school principal.
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