Someone is flying a plane from South America to Miami. They land in Oregon to ask directions. This is analogous to the situation I was in this afternoon. A young, yuppie couple pull up next to me in a two year old BMW. They have plates which indicate they are from south of here. We are at a red light and we have about thirty seconds before the light changes. There are about 15 miles and a half a dozen turns between us and their intended destination, and they are headed in the wrong direction. Further complicating matters, I only know the name of one of the six different streets between our current location and their intended destination, and the one I know is not the street their destination is on (they don’t know the name of the street either). I give them some really vague directions: “head back to that street we just passed, cross the large body of water, and follow the signs to the Airport.” The fellow in the passenger seat replies, “is that near Tropicana Field?” “No”, I reply, “that’s on this side of the large body of water, you want to be on the other side.” Sensing my lack of ability to help, they say “so we need to cross the large body of water – o.k., we’ll find it.” Going back to the analogy, I essentially told them they needed to go south and fly over the Gulf of Mexico, and in reply they asked if Miami was near Panama.

“…We’ll find it.”
Not if you don’t get better directions.
Of course, right after I rolled up my window and the light turned green – I thought of perfect directions.