Thursday, November 19, 2009

I just wonder what the other drivers thought I was doing.

The iPhone has an app for Google where you can search for whatever you are Googling like a normal person, and it also has voice search function. The voice search function rocks for those occasions where you find yourself speeding down Scholls Ferry Road and need the number for the Rain salon because you just caught a look at your eyebrows in the rear view mirror and thought, Holy crap, something needs to be done about THAT and I mean pronto, and you are driving too fast to see if you still have their card in your wallet or type out R-A-I-N on the keypad. Just hit the voice search button and say "Rain Salon Beaverton" into the phone and it will give you the best matches. It really works. Just make sure the radio is turned down. And that you have a firm grasp on the pronunciation of the English language.

Tuesday I was discussing via email with Shelia about Thanksgiving options. When I'm at work I have all these grand ideas of getting non-work-related things done so that I don't have to do them when I get home. They rarely get done because I am easily distracted, but Shelia pointed me in the direction of the Haggen's supermarket pre-cooked holiday meals. You simply order one, go pick it up, slap it on the table and presto! Dinner. Now, for those out there that might be thinking, Wow, how sad for her, please do not. I really have never liked this holiday. The local family is sort of diminishing and the last few Thanksgivings that I have been around Tom, mom and I have just gone out to dinner. But good Lord I hate crowds. So when Shelia suggested the Haggens I thought, wow, right up my alley. I told myself I would call the Haggens when I got home from work that night and order one.

Of course I forgot all about it. But it came back to me yesterday morning on my drive in (since it's like 20 feet from my house and I pass by it daily), so, speeding down Murray Road I thought I would use my Google voice search situation and call the Haggens.

To my ears there is nothing wrong with the way I pronounce things, so when I calmly said "Haggens" in to the phone, I was mildly surprised to see that it came up with "Higgins". No worries, perhaps I wasn't clear enough. I tried again. "Haggens", a little louder, a little more emphasis on the "a". Higgins came up again. I turned down the radio volume a little bit more and much more forcefully said "Ha-ggens!". I didn't get "Higgins" again, instead I got "Denver", which sort of pissed me off because I'm thinking now the phone is just making fun of me. At this point I am driving 52 miles per hour down TV Hwy yelling every variation of the pronunciation of "Haggens Supermarket" into the phone and getting responses like "Hayden", "What is a supermarket?", "Denver Supermarkets" and even a "What is a Denver?" Seriously? The beauty of all of this was that I certainly wasn't giving up and by the time I got to 185th and Baseline I was actually given a choice for "Hagen's" (and the suggestion that Google gives you - Did you mean "Haggens"? Um, yeah, I did.).

It should be noted that it took me about twenty minutes and maybe seven miles of stop-and-go traffic to accomplish my feat, but I did it, I beat the dang app, phoned in the order and am now that much closer to enduring my 44th Thanksgiving holiday. Sorry to those of you who like the holiday, I'm just not that in to it.

I'll close by saying that somehow last night I agreed to getting up at 4am the day after and going sock shopping at the Fred Meyer with Nicky and her daughter Ashley. I have never shopped on Black Friday and thought I never would, but I got all caught up in the hoopla of the cycle finale of "America's Next Top Model" and must have lost myself. Me, who went through all this trouble to avoid crowds.

I do this to myself. It really shouldn't surprise me.


At 7:31 AM, November 20, 2009, Anonymous Anonymous said...

This Photo reminds me of how loud a ball hitting a wood bat is.
Brings back the greatest feeling you can ever imagine , hitting a ball that disappears behind the outfield fence.


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