Big Brother has arrived, and he is a Buick.

Well, he's a little overdue, but finally, the Big Brother of Orwell's masterpiece 1984 is here. Imagine, a car that tells you where to go, when to turn, so one can navigate one's way through a maze, like we are driving in mazes everyday. I am astonished by this technology, but more astonishing is that we are a race of people who can invent it, but still can't ask for directions. And I am royally peeved that the driver in this commercial (OK, I'm watching too much TV again) is a WOMAN! I can remember getting carsick while my husband drove round and round looking for an address that wasn't there, or being late for I don't know how many weddings, meanwhile passing gas stations where I know the answer to our question lay. So I'm on the record saying I know how to ask for directions. I can find my way to Mapquest.com, I can print out a map, I can put it on the passenger seat and keep glasses in the center console to refer to it at stoplights. Obviously, men made this commercial. And men made this gizmo, too. Men need this gizmo, a lot more than women need men.