Real men don’t need no stinking directions.  Even in this modern age of map quest and GPS, we may still forgo directions, believing in our innate ability to navigate. Back when pioneers headed out west to kill all the Native Americans – I mean explore – there was no one to ask for directions. They had a horse, a wagon, some salt pork, and a gun. They had to make their own way, or die trying. Back then a man was a provider, a protector, and a conqueror. So when we are in our SUV, drinking bottled spring water, listening to soft jazz, you at our side, heading to the new hot Thai dinner spot, we actually believe we’re on that wagon train heading out “Californi way”.  Directions or a map is just punking out, admitting that you can’t cut it in the Wild West. Naturally this is a bit dramatic, but it’s how many of us think. Our sense of self worth can be a bit fragile and admitting we need help with a simple task, such as navigating, is admitting weakness and inadequacy.

My advice? Just let us struggle to find our way for a little while.  Let us embrace our pioneering spirit – as long as we are not going to be too late for dinner and our reservation lost. By all means don’t add pressure by nagging or growing frantic. That only makes it worse. By all means don’t tell us to stop and get directions. Find a creative way to help us. Take a peak at the GPS directions on your phone or make a call to the restaurant. We’ll take help from you because, after all, you are our partner. But we won’t make a physical stop at a gas station to take help from a total stranger. That’s like making a public service announcement that we have failed as men.  When you get the directions, use a Jedi mind trick on us. Let us think that we were really close to our objective, but just took a wrong turn, and it can happen to anyone. We can handle making a small mistake, but not complete failure. All of this is a golden opportunity to make us think we’re really taking care of you and being manly. After all, taking you to a Thai restaurant in our SUV is like stopping our wagon to shoot a buffalo or something for dinner.