They even wrote a book about it!
Spoiler alert: it’s not about navigation.
So, what is the book?
The Mysteries of Pittsburgh by Michael Chabon.
Thanks! One of my kids lived there recently for medical school and postdoc, I’m going to recommend the book to him. He’ll enjoy it, as might his Pittsburgh born and bred sweetie now enjoying their new locale much west of Pittsburgh.
Oh, gosh. It’s a novel. About a guy, well, exploring his identity, shall we say. Good book, but not a guidebook to Pittsburgh!
They’ll enjoy just reading about the settings, descriptions of neighborhoods and landmarks, foods, bars, traffic quirks, etc.
O.k. then! I found the descriptions of the city interesting in the book. And all the hills and rivers make it look like a fun place to drive around.
I lost my parked car once too! My son and I were at the university hospital complex for a procedure related to his cancer. We parked in a massive ramp and because of my mind being in a constant state of worry with everything going on, I forgot to make note of what level I parked on. He was having an hours-long procedure and I was told to come back later in the day. I went back to the ramp and had no idea where I was parked. I can’t wrap my brain around the design of a parking lot, so I was really lost. I got off of the ramp elevator and started walking (and mind you it’s freezing cold besides). I pressed the key fob to hopefully hear my car beep. Finally, I heard it and walked towards the sound. I could see my car in a level below me but I couldn’t figure out how to get to it. I couldn’t walk down from where I was because walking down eventually brought me higher. So I had to walk up the ramp and then was eventually able to wind around and reach my car. What a nightmare! As I was driving out, I noticed the cashiers had CCTV. They must have had some real entertainment watching me wander around.
After that fiasco, I ALWAYS make note of where I am parking.
That sounds…nightmarish. So sorry to hear. I guess it’s a good idea to associate different parking levels with uncommon words and/or colors. For example, in the parking garage of a children’s hospital I visited (I think it was Seattle Children’s), the parking garage floors were named for animals, e.g. elephant, giraffe, etc. So even in a stressed-out state you might remember the animal rather than “4b.”
Imagine disney world, where people fly in, rent a car, park it in the massive parking lot and then have to try to find it. A car that they are only sort of familiar with. I have heard they is a shuttle that roves the parking lot full of people desperately clicking their remotes in hopes of locating their anonymous car in the vast anonymous lot.
After parking in a multi-level garage and getting out, I always use my phone to take a picture that encompasses my car, one of the big columns that has the level number painted on, and a small area surrounding it (to help navigate within that level).
If I can remember the level number when I come back to the garage, then great, no need for the picture. But if I can’t, it’s an absolute life-saver.
I do this too~a trick that has never failed me. If there is more than one garage in the area, like the municipal ones near our huge event center, I also take a picture of the street level door of the garage I exited from. It helps.
I can’t do yoga. I took classes for 6mos and I was no better at the end than I was at the beginning. Plus for whatever reason it made me sweat a ton while everyone else there continued to look perfectly pulled together-- and this wasn’t Bikram yoga I’m talking about-- so ultimately I gave up.
Funny, my fifth grade teacher also read a book to us. But it was The Wizard of OZ and, believe me, we listened. This was before the movie. I still remember her explaining the word “humbug”.
This is pretty much me as well. Physically, I’m terribly inflexible and one of my super powers is sweating. Like, if someone were attempting to kidnap me on a hot summer day I’d get away because I’d sweat so much I’d slip out of their grip and slow jog away long enough the kidnapper would roll their eyes in disgust and go home.
I’m 6"4’ and I can’t play basketball either.
I can’t whistle.
I can’t use a yo-yo correctly.
I can’t swim in a watermelon patch.
My nephew who’s an art teacher claims he can teach me how to draw like an adult, but I’m sceptical.
I have no art talent. NONE.
This is related to the post immediately preceding this one. At Disneyland the different areas were named after animals. We liked to park in Z for Zebra, but we called it Zamboni.
For us it was He Went with Marco Polo. Got it from the library a few years back so I could read it.