Random Trip: Day One
Run for the Border!

As I was driving through customs today, I was asked certain questions by a border gaurd.

"Where are you headed?"

"South."

"How far south?"

"Dunno. I figured I'd just go south until I found golf courses."

"When will you be returning?"

"Anytime, really. But I gotta be back before Super Bowl."

"Pull into garage door #2 on the side, please."

Now I don't look at myself as hard done by here... in fact, it was what I was expecting. A cousin of mine used to work for Canadian border security, and he told me that they expect innocent people to be nervous and skittish. It's part of the common courtesy extended to all travellers to make them feel like criminals. The criminals, on the other hand, are generally not nervous at all, as they've done this plenty of times before.

Of course, in my own mind, I felt that since I'm not doing anything wrong, I should feel good about things. I don't feel bad just because someone thinks I should.

Apparently, that was my first mistake. The American border gaurds didn't smell fear. "Hmm... he's not scared... Safetys off, boys."

Mistake #2? Have a destination. If you don't, fake it. They'd be happier, you'd be happier.

People are not nearly as interested in the truth as they'd have you believe.

An American has better odds of being struck by lightning than being killed by a terrorist in America, but that's not important. They just want to feel like they're safe.

The harsh truth is this: If someone wants to blow us up badly enough, they'll find a way. If our company wants to downsize us badly enough, they will. There will always be things to turn our lives upside-down, and there is really nothing that any of us can do about it. There is no real security, only the illusion of it. And that is what they chase after.

When they can accept (and even embrace) that concepts like "safe" and "secure" don't really exist, then, and only then, can we take all of that time, all of that planning, and all of those resources, and put them to something more productive. To our culture. To our society. To ourselves. Instead of chasing an illusion.

I make no generalizations about the Americans themselves... their country is like ours. It's simply waaaay too big for people to all live the same life and act the same way. For every gun-toting shoot-first-and-ask-questions-later maniac, there's a tree-hugging, granola-munching pacifist, and every kind of person in between.

But there is no doubt that when they screen job applicants at the borders, they're generally looking for the former. I think the official policy at the border is "If it looks like a duck, and quacks like a duck, stick a rubber glove up its ass and make sure it's not an Arab disguised as a duck."

For those of you that have never had "The Treatment" at the American border, you're really missing out. You are placed into a holding cell. Roughly 5x7, cement walls, a couple of chairs, and a two-way mirror, so they can watch you sweat. The door has a knob on only one side... and I was to experience this lovely form of border hospitality, first hand.

Well, when one is faced with a pile of lemons and nothing better to do, one might as well make lemonade.

One of the things that I'm currently studying is the ability to increase one's sensory acuity. The same way that a blind man's other senses increase to compensate for his lack of vision. I see no reason to poke my eyes out to have to achieve the same results, however. With a few excercises, people can greatly increase their ability to sense what's around them.

Two-way mirrors aren't perfect, they simply tend to reflect more light than they allow to pass through on the mirror side. One tends to concentrate on the strongest image, which is the reflected one. This means that if there is enough light on the other side, you can ignore the stronger reflection of yourself, and see shapes and strong color contrasts on the other side. With practice, your mind can fill in the blanks, and you can see through it perfectly well.

A great way to mess with border gaurds is to wave at them when they're standing on the other side, looking at you. I recommend making sure you and your belongings are totally 100% kosher, though. They'll likely bring in the drug dog at this point. Ask me how I know.

But where they were tearing apart my car and belongings was around the corner from where I was, and I couldn't see what was going on. I was sitting there, looking very smug, for I knew that I was doing nothing wrong, and having a great time not doing it. And these were definately the kind of people that get pissed when they see someone else having fun when they're not. You've met many of these people before... you've probably been one at one point. So have I. We all have from time to time. But we can't allow people in that state to spoil our good times... there's too many people having them at any given time. If we allowed that state of mind to win out, nobody would ever have any fun!

A few minutes after they had left me alone, (I think I was freaking them out) I heard something I never expected to hear. A great big belly laugh from one of the gaurds. Now last time I checked, I hadn't packed a rubber chicken, or my five foot tall Wyle. E Coyote doll, so I was completely perplexed as to what was so funny as to get one of these jokers to fall over laughing.

So when it was time to release me from my cell, I looked to the table where they had strewn everything from my suitcase in a big random pile, twice the height of the suitcase. And there it was... right on the very, very top of Mount Laundry. The thing that was so intensely funny, it managed to crack even a border gaurd's mighty stoicism.

I had inherited my luggage from my parents. They had bought new luggage awhile back. They also know that I'm the kind of guy that never thinks about things like that. Presented with a trip, I'd more than likely just throw my stuff in a Safeway bag and go. When I travel, I travel light. I never use all the pockets that are on the luggage.

My mother, at one point in her life, experimented with selling cosmetics. Part of her sales techniques included flyers on cars, piles of business cards in bathrooms, and those pieces of paper you see on posting boards with a phone number written on it a couple of dozen times on smaller easy-to-tear strips.

So there it was, it had been hiding in one of those side pockets that I had never bothered to check. Sitting on very top of the mountain of personal affects. A huge piece of paper, with several easy-to-tear strips.

"Call Joan for all your needs. 1-800-912-7262"

I had thought about trying to protest... my mother wasn't a ho, damnit! But, they weren't going to believe me, and I had been having fun at their super-serious expense, and there's no reason they shouldn't have a funny water cooler story to get out of it, too. People need all the laughs in life they can get. Especially guys carrying guns.

As far as they were concerned, they had "found" what I was trying to "hide", so they were satisfied. So they released me, I packed up my stuff, we talked about golf for a bit, and I made my way out, everyone a little lighter-hearted for the experience. Except for maybe me, after my mother reads this.

Sorry Mom. ;)





Home | Blog Index