August 21, 2003
Blame Canada
Now you might find yourself saying "hmmmm... THAT doesn't look like Canada. It looks like New England" and you'd be right.
Really long story as short as possible:
Saturday, pm, G and I decide to take a spur-of-the-moment vacation. Montreal. Por Qua? 1) he's never been to Canada. 2) G speaks French. 3) we wanted to apologize to Canada in person for being blamed for the blackout of an eighth of North America when it was Ohio's fault all along. 3a) Nose thumbing. Dollar voting. Two bird with one highly politicized stone killing [in regard to] 3b)America's newfound anti-Canadian, and the larger and more publicized anti-anything-French, attitudes. ( I know, I know, how liberal and EDGY of us...how punk rock.)
At first we were concerned that G does not have a current passport, however we were assured by some helpful wag at Amtrak that passports were not necessary for this trip. That Canada is, and I quote, "A Soft Border", that licenses and credit cards and other picture IDs would be just fine. So we booked trains, reserved hotels, travelogued. However when we arrived at Amtrak Sunday morning, bleary eyed from packing and arranging all night, me high on motion sickness pills and he working two hours sleep, the man who inspected our bags said there was a very good chance G would be turned back at the border. Post 9/11 precautions and whatnot. What to do? Risk it?
No, what you do is freak out, argue a bit, decide not to go but refuse to go back home defeated, check out other trains to other destinations. Finally rent a car and start driving east until you hit water, which is not that far from New York, thankfully.
I'll tell more tales of the trip later. A teaser: one story involves catching crabs, the body kind.