Hunting for Good Porn Science

There's something about stalking around a nursing home looking for a sign that makes me think my life might be going somewhere I might not like.

     I understand that might need some explanation. It's not a long one, but it requires knowledge about 'geocaching." What's that shit, you ask?

     Geocaching is where sad nerd science meets hiking. Long ago, satellites were for more than just broadcasting porn and the Great British Bake Off to the masses. The military used them for many things, including broadcasting porn and British porn.

     Those satellites were also used to locate things on earth with a system called GPS (Good Porn Science!). With a device on the ground, science was able to talk or something. Anyway, eventually they let the people at RadioShack have it.

     Some of those nerds thought, "what if we used the GPS signals to hide things? Then we can tell other people about the GPS and see if they can find the things we hid." Then they made an app because there was not much to do with the first Iphone.

     And so geocaching was born. It used to be free, but then App stores allowed for subscriptions and people got bored, so now for thirty dollars a year you can find things other people hid with your smartphone. 

     Cut to this weekend with me wandering around an old folks home while Martha with the Walker wonders if I'm some kinda old person sex deviant. I'm not despite the fact that I was wearing a hoodie.

     See, some people who hide the geocaches get cute with it. They hide them in public areas so you have to be all weird about it. Slinking around while other normal not-strange people go about their day looking for a film canister or some magnetic whatsit with a small paper log inside. Then you write your name on the paper, high five your cell phone, and go find another.

     Some are more complex. Like the one today at the old folks place.

     Of course I woke up a little hungover. It's Sunday. So I decided to get some coffee and go on a long walk. Because golf is the only real way to spoil a walk, I pulled out my phone and went for some caches clad in the first things I found that were comfy, some old jeans, a black hoodie, and a cap that says CAT on it because I was once a gopher at a construction yard.

     I found two right off. Some Cub Scouts hid one in a little sandwich box near where they meet. The second was hidden behind a fake power outlet on a light pole in a parking lot of a medical building. The third coordinates lead me to the nursing home where I got stuck.

     Some of the places are puzzles, you see. The coordinates get you to the starting point, and the description gets you along with hints from there. Once I found one in a cemetery with multiple grave names, the dates of which lead to more coordinates. Clever.

     Today's however, I could not solve. Without giving too much, it had something to do with the city and a corner. I checked all the corners, lapped Martha with the Walker, and found nothing. Even asked Martha, who nodded at me and said her son was coming to get her for church. 

     Several staff members were getting a smoke. One knew what I was talking about, but she did not know where the cache was on the property. 

     Head down, I left and got a chocolate milk. Not a bad day, but looking back maybe I should find a friend to go with me. A six foot three dude in a hoodie cursing while he stomps around some bushes looks less intimidating if he has someone with him to wave and wish people a nice day.