He doesn't talk much, but when he does it's important.
He doesn't get angry when you make a mistake, he's endlessly patient.
I'm in love.
Right now I'm sitting in London having arrived safely without being lost once. And it's all due to Ted. It was Joe's idea to bring him into our lives and I resisted it. But then when were faced with driving into Birmingham - a city where people who live there wander for weeks looking for the road home - I gave in. We bought him Just over a week ago. Here in England Ted would be called a tom tom, back home a GPS. Whatever you call him, he's mine ... sorry ... ours.
Ted tells us how to get from place to place. He sits on the window and tells us, pleasantly, to bear left, turn right, enter roundabout ... he's ... he's miraculous. We haven't been lost once, not once since Ted took over the directions. I don't know how he works, how he finds his way, but I'm glad he does.
I've decided to ask God for a Tom Tom for Christmas. I want a Ted for my life. "In two point two seconds say 'Yes'" would be helpful advice when I'm faced with a decision. "Enter room and turn right," would be most appreciated when I'm avoiding someone. "Slow down and think before proceeding ahead," I'm guessing I'd hear that a lot.
They never told us how hard adulthood would be when we were all young and rushing towards a future we thought would offer freedom, and control, and self fullfillment. Now I understand why the elderly smile at the young - at first I thought it was nostalgic. Now I understand it was 'knowing' - a 'just wait, just you wait, you rash brat, until life smacks you full in the face' smile. I give that smile myself now to the young and impetuous.
I thought that as I got older, I'd get wiser. Maybe I did, maybe not, but for sure the questions are more difficult. There are too many sides. My vision burrs and black becomes white and back again.
So I want a Ted for my life.
Clear simple directions.
"Watch your back."
Those kinds of pearls of wisdom dropped into my day at opportune times.