Michael D. Davis.

It is, in my opinion, that everyone is an idiot. I am saying the entire population of the world, as we know it, regardless of IQ, age, where you went to school, how long you went to school, what you read, what you learn, or the frequency in which you use the word ‘indubitably’ is an idiot. I include myself in this, so you know, and what I am getting to is that everyone is an idiot to a degree, for example, let me tell ya about myself.

I have always lived in Toledo. The most I’ve been out of Tama-Toledo is when we had the derecho, and my sister, Ma, and me, all had to stay in a hotel in Marshalltown for a week. And throughout these couple decades of living in this town, I have not learned almost any street names. If you mention that you live or so and so lives up on whocares avenue, I’ll nod my head, but I won’t know where you’re talking about. Even though I’ve probably been by there a thousand times.

This all came to a head a few weeks ago, with the Tama-Toledo garage sales. It was a Saturday morning, and I was going at it myself. The first sale on my list I knew exactly how to get there because, sadly, the night before I Google mapped it. It was about four blocks away from the home in which I’ve lived my entire life.

Anyways, I go to the sale, get a few books, then leave. I pull up the list of garage sale addresses on my phone. I see a street name that I think I know, and I head off. Somehow, I ended up driving around Toledo for nearly 20 minutes, I passed the courthouse twice, but the sheriff’s station only once, which doesn’t really make sense to me. Ended up by the old football field where I saw a sign for a sale. I followed the arrow and ended up right back at the garage sale I’d just left.

I blame my family for this. My parents have always always lived in this county, their parents have always lived in this county. So, whenever my family gives directions it goes something like this, “Ya head down the street, hang a left at the juvenile home, swing past the cemetery, go over to the old football field, take a right where ol’ Jerry used to live before he moved to Minnesota and croaked, then go straight till you see that place where we once went to see that guy who was sellin’ that lawnmower, you know, right next to the house where the kid that works at the store’s mother used to live…. did you know she’s out at Birkwood now?”

It’s sad, and maybe some sign of mental illness, but if I get those directions, I know exactly where I’m going.