Also titled, “Now I’m a Spy”
First of all, I’d like to say that I cannot remember when I’ve enjoyed comments more, than on my post about brushing up against greatness. Thank you. Made my weekend.
Well. Something big happened around here on Friday. After much feet dragging, I’ve joined the technological revolution by purchasing an iPhone.
Oh yes my friends. Me. The gal who thinks a mobile phone should measure the circumference of the sole of a shoe. The girl who is still mourning the untimely death of her canary yellow Sony Walkman. The girl who still owns, gulp, LPs.
When the price of an iPhone dropped, I decided that I needed one for, um, work. Yeah. That’s it.
I can justify most anything. It’s a gift.
So I’ve spent the weekend learning the intricacies of the iPhone. And after a game of Scrabble against my iPhone, I’ve gotten proof that it’s smarter than me.
But there are cool features I was not aware of. For example, on Saturday we headed over to the in-laws to dump the children in their pool. Because it was a balmy 116 degrees here in Florida.
Somebody forgot to tell Florida that SPRING would have been a nice prelude to AFRICA HOT.
So on the journey there, Fiddledaddy suggested that I whip out my iPhone and look up directions to my in-laws house. Since I was riding shotgun. “But I know how to get to their house. So do you.”
“Humor me. Check out the Google Maps application.
So I plugged in my in-laws address, and OH MY GOODNESS, THERE WAS A PICTURE OF THEIR HOUSE ON MY iPHONE. I’m not talking about an aerial view, but like a picture that looked like someone was standing on their driveway.
FREAKED ME OUT.
I mean, I knew of this aerial view business, I’ve looked up my own house that way just to see what the heck was really up with the “nature preserve” behind us that we paid extra for.
Which I’m certain is some covert secret government operation because the dense overgrowth stops dead, and then there is some sort of weird pattern carved out where there ought to be a water reservoir. But I’m not going back there. No siree.
Anyhoo. We got curious and I plugged in our house address and OH MY GOODNESS, THERE WAS A PICTURE OF OUR HOUSE ON MY iPHONE.
And I was a little embarrassed. The day this picture (heavy use of air quotes) was taken, was evidently last year when we were expecting our freezer to be delivered, and the garage door was open and all my CRAP was spilling out onto the lawn. Not to mention it was trash day and we looked like we were just an hour short of putting the car up on cinder blocks.
I wondered if Google would let us submit our own photo. Or at least photoshop the one that was used.
Fiddledaddy explained to me that Google sends their minions out like all over the world with a camera attached to the top of the car. A camera that takes pictures at a 360 degree angle.
That’s just a little too big brotherish for me.
But that didn’t stop me from entering my old childhood address in Cincinnati. I was able to see a part of my old house. The part that wasn’t covered by overgrown trees and, well, overgrowth. I was saddened to see that the house which once boasted of a beautifully manicured lawn, had fallen into such disrepair. But I shouldn’t have been surprised. My childhood best friend, Karen, had sent me a link to a news article that mentioned my old house as a location for a bust because it was a suspected meth lab. I chronicled that story here.
Using the google street map, I followed my old route to the bus stop. I recognized my neighbor’s house across the street immediately. Happily it hadn’t changed. And was well cared for. There were many houses that had been added to vacant lots. Lots which once were impromptu kickball fields and tree climbing adventure spots. One such lot was right next to our old house. Even though we didn’t own it, my dad kept it mowed and cared for. We had many adventures in that lot. And it served as an excellent spot for the yearly summer lemonade stand.
The stand which financed my love of Little Kiddles and Reeses peanut butter cups.
A house sits there now. Right where the tree that I fell out of as a child once stood.
The neighborhood was not as pretty as a remember. I chalk it up to hard times. Or the rose colored glasses that I wear whenever my mind wanders back to those carefree days of youth.
I have always longed to return there and walk that well worn bus path again. And now with the aid of google, I can.
But somehow I really think it would have been better to have left it alone as I last remembered it when I was 12.
Are you curious? Have you ever been tempted to type in an old childhood address and see what it looks like now?