PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Passing through the border into Canada has potential to be a real hassle.  There was one time when I went to a Dead show in Buffalo.  On the journey home, a few friends wanted to detour to check out Niagara Falls.

So we cruise up to the border to go into Canada.  Everyone knows the Canucks have the better view.  Of course, our driver wasn’t all that bright—and maybe it doesn’t say much for me that I was in a vehicle with him.

The driver comes up to the checkpoint.  On simple questioning, he blurts out “We just wanna see the Falls.  We don’t have any drugs in the car.” 

I was in the back seat.  My head nearly fell into my hands.  I had two sheets of paper acid sitting in a memo pad in my flannel shirt pocket.  This was not a good move.  Now I’m certain we’re going to face more scrutiny—either now or when we come back across the border.

This greatly diminished my appreciation of the Falls.  I was too worried about getting back across the border.  I was fully expecting a more intense screening.  It did happen when we were coming back across the border.

We were asked a lot of questions and asked to get out of the car.  I was feeling certain that I might be in a whole heaping pile of trouble.  The customs man was frisking me.  He even had his hand on the memo pad.  He started to put it out from the shirt pocket.  Then he slid the memo pad back into the shirt pocket and gave me the okay.

I was standing there stone faced.  I felt the whizzing sensation of a bullet flying past my ear.  A decade in prison was a near certainty but incredible luck.  The customs man literally had 200 hits of paper acid right in his hand.

I was really quiet as we loaded back into the car and headed across the border back into the USA.  I did request that we make a pit stop at the first rest area with a bathroom.  I was greatly in need of relief.