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Published: October 30th 2008
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October06 025
Who wouldn't let this face into their country? So I guess my journey starts here although I so gradually began to travel that I'm not sure where to start. I packed up all my stuff on the 30th of Sept. and was out of JP on the 1st. A little late to be sure, but my landlord is very cool and realized that, despite packing all night, I still wasn't going to get out of there by midnight.
It was another melancholy departure from yet another rented apt. in my life. Another chapter closes but another one will surely open.
I spent a couple of day in Las Vegas (4th time this calender year!) which I will have to save for another time as my Vegas trips tend to require a whole different rating. These blogs I am going to try to keep PG-13 with a the occasional R thrown in for the old folks who have no other way to get their thrills. Vegas tends to be a little too much for some of my older readers with heart conditions. Therefore, I will have to save that for a whole different blog.
Anyway, when I got back from Vegas I spent a couple of days with my friend Brad who lives in Portsmouth, NH. We hung out and did a little hiking in the White Mountains. One quick highlight - my 45 lb. dog, Annie, chased what had to be a 2 ton moose about 1/2 a mile. Amazing. As her mad barks faded into the distance, I envisioned myself wandering aimlessly in the dark woods looking for her, but she came back about 10 minutes later with her tongue hanging helplessly out of her mouth and a very triumphant look on her face.
So that then brings me to the title of my blog.
Let me explain a little about what I am doing so that you, unlike the Canadian border patrol, will understand. I have taken a bit of time off, (Ok, Ok, 6 months) to do some traveling. The plan was to go to my friends Jeff and Tala's wedding near Detroit, MI. After that, I was going to make my way to Florida via Cincinnati, Nashville and Atlanta with a little camping thrown in here and there. So my first leg of the journey to Detroit showed that the shortest distance was via Canada. Hence, with my car all packed up, my dog riding shotgun, I shoved off for the border. I was going to spend the night on the Canadian side of the border at Niagara Falls.
A little note of history here. I grew up 2 hours south of the Canadian border in Vermont. We would cross that border all the time on our way to Montreal (where the drinking age was 18, BTW) with a wave and a nod from our local border guys. Needless to say, I had no worries about crossing another border to get into Canada.
As I got closer to the border at Niagara Falls I noticed a nice long line of cars backed up waiting to cross. OK, fine, no way around this I settled in and waited an hour to get to the dude in the booth. I had my passport, which rumor had it, I apparently needed nowadays. The guy at the booth took a look at all the stuff I had in my car and asked a few questions, such as "where ya going with all that stuff". I told him to a wedding in Detroit, but the questions kept on coming. "Do you have a place of residence?" At this point I was answering his questions glibly and honestly as I could as I totally didn't see the end result of this line of questioning coming. So, no, actually, I don't have a place of residence at the moment and also, no, I don't have a job at the moment. The guy at the booth then asks me to pull my car over and talk to a "immigration officer". Not good. This lady took one look at me and made up her mind that I was not getting into her beloved country.
Another side note. I had not shaved in about 4 days and was about 2 months overdue for a haircut. I was wearing a T shirt and shorts with some flops to round out my ensemble. On top of the image, I had no job, no permanent place of residence, and a car load of stuff. I slowly began to put it all together, but still, very slowly. The lady inside asked me pretty much all the same questions as the guy outside, the only difference being, she was much ruder about it. At some point she did ask me my profession and I told her I was a doctor. To this, I get the proverbial hairy eyeball.
When this old hag told me that they weren't going to let me in to Canada. I had to confirm my suspicions and at least ask them why they had refused me entry. The reply was essentially that they thought I was going to move to Canada. My reply was something along the lines of the SNL skit, Oh my god, are you serious? Really? I mean Canada is cool and all, but c'mon Canada, don't flatter yourselves. I know we do have an election coming up, and that I have threatened to move to Canada if it didn't go well, but I never did move, and things in this election can't get any worse than they are now. Basically, if I didn't move then, than I ain't moving now.
Long story short, my little shortcut thru Canada turned out to be the scenic route. The best part about the whole thing is that they escorted me off Canadian property with a squad car. Public enemy #1! (and his dog). I made the wedding no problem, I did have to forfeit my hotel room on the Canadian side of the falls. Oh yeah, never did see Niagara Falls. Maybe some other time....
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Dad
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Nice
Nice writing and great picture.