There are four things you should know about my wife. They all seem to be unrelated,

but they come together from time to time. That can be scary.

First, she is a brilliant woman. She even understands complicated math, something that has eluded me since the fifth grade, which is very helpful in her role as a very successful stock broker.

Secondly, and not quite as complimentary, she has the directional capabilities of an intoxicated fruit fly.

Despite this, she still wants to control the car, even when she is in the passenger seat. I regularly find myself double-checking to make sure those are actually my hands on the steering wheel.

Finally, She is one of the most difficult women on the planet to get to give you gift ideas.

Those four characteristics have all come to the forefront over the holiday season.

Early last year, I wrote about my wife’s somewhat deficient sense of direction. While the woman is extremely smart in so many ways, trying to get her to go from Point A to Point B can be an exercise in futility.

Before we met, Diane had risen to the highest level of the Girl Guides organization. One would think that in order to do that, she would have to have some understanding of north and south. I’ve learned that it is best to avoid giving her directions that include telling her to turn north or south, unless I expect her to end up one hundred miles east or west of her destination.

Frankly, I can’t imagine how she survived those camping and hiking trips with the Girl Guides. I can only assume they didn’t let her lead the way.

Diane will regularly tell me that she thinks I should be in a different lane, or taking a different route. She remains convinced, despite her intoxicated gnat-like directional abilities, that I need her advice when I am behind the wheel.

It often makes me think about my father. He had a small sign installed in his car for my great aunt’s benefit. It said advised those who would like to comment on the driver’s actions or choices of routes to take note of the mistletoe pinned to his coattails.

A few weeks ago, as the holiday season approached, I asked Diane what she would like for Christmas. Diane’s childhood Christmases involved gifts of socks, underwear, and if she had been very, very good, she might get a new pair of pajamas. Even though we’ve been married for over 30 for over 30 years, it’s still hard to get her to think about asking for something.

When I posed the question, I assumed that I would once again get the, “Oh, I don’t know” answer. The speed and intensity of her answer surprised me.

“I’d like one of those things for the car that tells me how to get where I need to go,” she said.

So began my research into global positioning systems, something we could have had factory installed in the new car we picked up less than a month before. They seem to range from something that you would need a magnifying glass to try to see what is on the screen to large screens that double as DVD players, and I think they might also make toast and coffee, but I’m not sure about that.

I finally settled on one that has an ample screen and an internal voice that tells you when your turn is coming. Most importantly, for Diane’s sake, it uses terms like left and right instead of north and south. It can readjust if you make a mistake and take a wrong turn, getting you back on the right track by the quickest possible route. It even keeps you posted on the distance left to you destination and estimates a time of arrival.

The instructions say that it doesn’t work well in Hawaii, but then I’m not sure how one would drive to Hawaii in the first place.

We installed it on the weekend. Almost immediately, I knew I was in trouble.

As I turned onto the street, the voice in the device told me to change lanes. Diane just smiled. (c)2006, Gordon Kirkland