No wonder some don't know which way is up
June 5, 2002
BY RICHARD ROEPER SUN-TIMES COLUMNIST
Longtime friends of mine will vouch for the fact that whenever I roam the streets of Chicago, I become Directions Guy. Spend any amount of time in my company and it won't be long before a group of explorers--maybe they'll be from Hamburg, maybe they'll be from Pittsburgh, maybe they'll be from Schaumburg--are asking if I can point them toward Wrigley Field or State and Madison or Navy Pier.
Once, a fair lass in a college letterman's jacket was standing directly in front of Niketown when she asked me if I knew where Niketown was. I instructed her to close her eyes and click her gym shoes together three times, and then told her to open her eyes and turn around. Ta da!
But even if someone is trying to get to a place that's miles away and will require a series of elaborate directions that would crash MapQuest, I'm happy to provide any assistance I can, up to and including getting into the car, taking over the wheel and leading the group in a singalong of "Can't Get There From Here" by R.E.M.
That's because I've got that manly thing of never admitting I can't get from here to there, whether I'm driving or I'm giving someone else directions. It's a particular point of pride for me because while I can still do multiplication tables on a "Rainman" level and my Phonics are solid, I was never geographically inclined, and it's taken me years of living within the city proper to gain a good working grasp of most of Chicago's better-traveled neighborhoods and streets. (If you think you know the city better than I do--you probably do. I concede.)
The northern portions of Chicago were especially tough for me to learn, because when I was growing up in the south suburbs, we thought a trip north meant a drive to Comiskey Park. I saw the inside of Yankee Stadium before I ever set foot in Thillens Stadium.
When I travel, for some reason I immediately cease to become Directions Guy in the eyes of others, and thank God, because I have to visit a city between four and six times before I have a clue--and that's only after I study maps and ask questions and take notes if necessary.
But at least I try, and I've always tried. I knew where Vietnam was when I was a little kid and neighbors were being sent over there, and I could have found Ireland on a globe when the globe was bigger than me. I think it's important to have some sense of the planet, if only to figure out where Matt Lauer's hiding or to avoid sounding like an amazing moron.
For example, Tonya from "The Real World: Chicago."
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Fans of the MTV show will recall that Tonya was the drama queen from Walla Walla, Wash., who had a tendency to misuse words, e.g., "Those jeans are so kosher!" and prattle on about her beloved boyfriend Justin and her kidney stones, not necessarily in that order.
On the new DVD titled "The Real World You Never Saw," Kyle tells of a conversation with Tonya before the cast gathered in Chicago:
"She looked at the United States map, and first of all, she couldn't tell me where Chicago was located. [So] I decided . . . to have a little fun with Tonya, so I'm like, 'Tonya, it's right there,' and she was like, 'Oh my God, I can't believe it's that far south,' and I'm pointing to southwestern Texas, which she completely believes is Chicago. She [says], 'Hey, let's go to Mexico, we're so close, let's just walk over there.' "
Lest you think Kyle's exaggerating, we also see a clip of Tonya in a car in Chicago, trying to find North Avenue and patiently explaining to Cara that no matter which way she's facing, north is in front of her, south is behind her, east is to the right and west is to the left.
As Cara looks on incredulously, Tonya says, "Have you ever seen the compass?" and explains that "North, south, east [and] west" all depend on which way she's facing.
You wonder if the girl can find her rear end with her own two hands.
That's right up there with the conversation between two guys from New York and a young woman from Oregon on the recent ABC mini-series "The Hamptons," with one guy saying, "She's from Iowa, or Idaho, or Kansas," and the other chiming in, "Anything west of the Hudson, I don't know about."
Little wonder that Anne "The Weakest Link" Robinson recently dissed us by saying, "Americans are very poor on literature and politics and geography. They don't know anywhere outside Idaho."
Unfortunately, we're always hearing about studies that back up Robinson's claim. Forty-three percent of Americans can't find their home state on a map, 39 percent don't know whether Michigan is north of Louisiana, 26 percent think Texas is a country, 14 percent believe the moon is the 51st state, stuff like that.
And forget about foreign lands. The U.S. has to deploy troops to a distant locale before half of its citizenry will scramble to find that country on a map or a globe. (The other half doesn't have a map or a globe.)
As I said, I'm no geography major, but there's something depressing about so many people who live their entire lives without having the faintest understanding of where they're at, where they're going or where they've been.
E-mail:
rroeper@suntimes.com
I was like why couldn't she just say a man/person?? 
tonya.... grrrrrrrrrrr
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