Four Days…Sometimes It’s Enough

Once I managed to escape the clutches of Canadian and US authorities, I was able to just enjoy the Falls.  I love rushing water:  ocean waves, waterfalls, rapids, etc.

There’s something primal for me about that much water moving so fast.

The idea that we could stand two feet from the water’s edge and no more than three feet from the top of the Falls - fascinating.  The rail was nothing, really.  Nothing to stop you if you really wanted to do it.

We wandered around a little, but we didn’t go on the Maid of the Mist.  The line was long, and we’d both been on it before (not together).  It was nice to watch from the edges - all those people getting soaked.

So, gambling (Thunder) and waterfalls (Tempest).  The train took us there and back without very much trouble and for just a little amount of money.  Not a bad deal.

How Did He Know I Was Even In The Building?

I am happy to say that the cross back from Canada to the US was without event.

Oddly, crossing over from the US to Canada is free (minus the strip-search), but crossing back to the US from Canada costs….wait for it….50 cents. Really. 50 cents. They even have change machines so you can turn your dollars (Canadian or American) into quarters. Then you put your quarters into the turnstile and off you go. Now you’re the US’s problem.

Tall Guy Agent was conspicuously standing about 20 feet from the turnstile as I made my way through. Since I’m scheduled to leave tomorrow, I decided it was wiser to avoid eye contact and be a good girl.

No sense in seeing what’s for dinner in a Federal holding facility.

Your Mother Always Told You To Wear Clean Underwear, Right?

In my defense I was pretty tired and battling hip pain when I finally arrived at the customs building on the Canadian side of the Rainbow Bridge at Niagara Falls. So perhaps a little of my inappropriateness might be excused. However, I would like it noted that Homeland Security does not have even a little bit of a sense of humor. It doesn’t help that I’m the kind of person who crosses out “Caucasian” on forms and writes in “SmartAss-American.”

Honestly, I probably was a little too tired to cross the bridge on foot after walking around the American Falls side again this morning. My hip has been acting up a little and I really needed some water. The temps here in Niagara were warmer than were predicted, and I really should have brought water with me. I was surrounded by millions of gallons of it, but still I was parched. But Dammit! I came all this way and was within yards of another country. I was going!

So when I entered the customs building I was in a giddy, tired state of mind and that’s where things went downhill. I stepped up to the window and handed the Canadian Customs Agent my passport. He began clicking some keys on his keyboard.

Agent: Good morning. Where are you coming from?

Tempest: Do you mean that in a 60s, groovy kind of way?

Agent:  (eyeballing me) Where do you live?

Tempest: New Jersey.

But I said New Jersey in sort of a sing-songy way. Why? Because he’s staring at my passport, which I mistakenly believed had my address written on it, and I thought he was just busting my chops.

At this point, he raised his head and locked eyes on me. I recognized my faux paux, but I was too tired-giddy to care. Or at least care enough. I have a sister who laughs long and loud in inverse proportion to the direness of the circumstances. I apparently began channeling her. I started to giggle as though I was stoned.

I didn’t see him move, but I’m now guessing that he either pressed some kind of button, or I was visible through a mirror, because two additional agents quickly came through a back doorway. A very tall man and a woman about my height. The woman asked me to step around the counter and join them at the table while the Canadian agent returned   to his window. They identified themselves as Homeland Security. Very politely.

I now realized that I’d have to downshift my flippant attitude to avoid a strip search, which is why I assume the female was present.

Tall US Agent: Are you a local resident or a visitor?

Tempest: Visiting from New Jersey, arrived on Wednesday and leaving on Saturday.

Tall Guy speaks in a measured confident voice using formal language. I am in trouble.  I am now over-answering questions. Any lawyer will tell you this is a bad idea. But I continue.

Tall US Agent: What is the purpose of your visit?

Tempest: We came up here to gamble. We’re staying at the Seneca Niagara Casino over on the NY side of the Falls.

Tall US Agent: With whom are you traveling?

Tempest: My husband.

Note: I was not wearing a wedding band, which of course I see them visually notice.

Tall US Agent: Where is your husband right now?

Tempest: In the casino, gambling.

Tall US Agent: Why are you not with him?

Tempest: Oh, I don’t gamble.

Female Agent: (pipes up, but talking slowly) Didn’t you just tell us that you and your husband came up to gamble?

This isn’t going well.

Tempest: Well, that and sightsee. We’ve seen the American Falls so far and I’m crossing over to see the Canadian side. (And at this point I’m mentally debating whether it would help if I started humming either the Star-Spangled Banner or O Canada.)

Female Agent: Did you rent a car?

Tempest: No. We came in on Amtrak but didn’t rent a car.

Female Agent: How are you planning to visit the attractions in the area without a car?

Tempest: We’re not visiting any attractions. (Now realizing that I mentioned sightseeing, and realizing that I’m not helping myself.) We’re just here to see the Falls and gamble – well my husband gambles – but I’m just here to relax and visit the Falls.

Tall US Agent: Your only activity is visiting the Falls, the State Park?  Are you planning to meet anyone at the Falls?

Tempest: Who would I meet?  (Stop it, Tempest!  Stop.  It.)

Tall US Agent: (very politely) Would you allow us to see your purse?

What am I going to say?

At this point they take my purse and begin to purposefully unload my wallet in front of me. They count out my money and repeat the amount to me aloud for confirmation.

They pull out my RID card – Registry for Interpreters of the Deaf – and ask me if I’m an Interpreter. I answer no. They look at me but don’t pursue the incongruity.

They pull out a library card from the Livingston, NJ Public Library. They look at my Driver’s License, which bears the name of a different town. They ask me why I have a library card from a different town. I explain that I work in Livingston and that library is easier to get to and from. I also note for them that it’s expired. Again, providing information not requested. Please note: don’t try to act too eager to help Homeland Security. They look at you funny.

They take my Driver’s License and every credit card over a computer. I don’t ask them what they’re doing. I’m just glad I didn’t bring my pillbox with me, needing explain all those damn medications.

They soon bring my belongings back to me and tell me that I can put them away.

They ask me how long I expect to be in Canada. When I tell them about 2 hours, they tell me I’m free to go.

But I just don’t know when to stop, do I?

Tempest: (putting away everything into her purse while the Homeland Security agents stand up) Wait, aren’t you going to stamp my passport?

Both agents stare down at me, and I can even feel the eyes of the Canadian agent on me from behind.

Tall US Agent: (a little too testily) We do not stamp passports on walkovers.

Tempest: (pouting and whining a little ) Ohhhhhh…. (looking back up at their stares) *blink…blink*   Uhm…okay, then, thank you

I proceeded to get the hell out of there.

Perhaps I should stop at a lingerie store in town. I should have matching underwear for the inevitable intimacy I’m expecting on the return trip.

The Things That Unite Us ARE Greater Than The Things That Divide Us

As I was walking over the Rainbow Bridge from the US to Canada, the winds coming off of the American and Horseshoe Falls at Niagara were quite strong. The railing over the edge of the abyss is made of strong metal, but is not a solid wall; it’s made of individual metal tubes in a frame. I’m assuming it’s so the strong, strong wind can push through and move beyond and not batter a more solid wall. That would probably cause a solid wall to break down and crumble. Not so much what you’d want next to this enormous drop. However, pedestrians have no buffer from this strong wind while walking.

With the large drop-off on my left and the stream of car traffic going through customs to enter NY from Canada on my right, I was concerned that the wind might blow me right into a vehicle. There’s a small wall near the car lanes, but it’s not much.

A young woman walked toward me from the Canadian side with a man and little girl. It was quickly apparent that she chose poorly when she dressed in the morning. She was wearing a very swingy skirt. She was about 30 feet in front of me when a forceful gust of wind shot through the railing and up under her skirt, throwing the whole skirt straight up, completely hiding her head. She was wearing the tiniest, cutest little pink thong.

And that’s when I realized that all people, regardless of nationality or race or religious affiliation or political leanings, are really all the same deep down inside;  we’re all 12-year-old boys:
The enthusiastic and persistent honking was very democratically spread among ALL of the drivers stuck in the customs line on the bridge.

Ah, Human Beings…

No Barrel Required: A One-Act Play About Being Clueless

Tempest and Thunder are climbing down the stairs to Luna Island – the overlook right at the edge of Bridal Veil Falls and the American Falls.  Looking outward toward the Falls, it’s pretty obvious just how fast this water is moving as it heads toward the top and rushes over.

The base of the staircase drops Tempest and Thunder onto Luna Island - a large square, flat promontory sitting in between the very edges of the top of the Falls. There is a metal railing that begins at the bottom of the stairs on the left and edges the water around the square. At the base of the stairs on the right, the railing ends and a paved path upward begins along the rushing waters of the rapids just before the falls. The path is approximately 6 feet wide with a grassy embankment that slopes downward to the rapids approximately 10 feet below.

Tempest and Thunder reach the bottom of the stairs. Thunders moves forward into the square, headed for the overlook. Tempest…pauses…and inches toward the path on the right. Suddenly from behind her, Tempest hears:

Th: Get. Back. Over. Here. Please.

Te: What? I was just going to look at it. Maybe…

Th: No.

Te: …just slide down…

Th: No.

Te: …the bank to the spot…

Th: No.

Te: …where the water is calm and touch it.

Th: No.

Te: I just want to pet it. The water isn’t rushing here. Look it’s a little pocket off to the side – look at how calm the water is here!

Th: You are less than 30 feet from the Falls! Let’s face it: you are the only person alive who could be standing in the middle of this path and still somehow end up in the middle of those rapids out there. What do you think will happen if you just “slide down the bank to the spot where the water is calm and touch it?”

Te: No, really, it’s very easy to climb down right over here. And see how the water is so calm right here…

Th: “Mr. Thunder, exactly where were YOU when your wife ended up in the rapids and ultimately over the Falls, ending in her untimely death?”

Te: The police are not going to think you pushed me in – look at all the witnesses…

Th: “Mr. Thunder, whose idea was it to walk all over the state park this morning, and, once tired and weary, end up with your wife in this unguarded location?”

Te: The water is just lapping at the edge here, even the birds are bathing in it…

Th: One more question, Mr. Thunder, why do you have a passport and a large roll of money on you?

Te: Just because you won in the casino and you have your passport so we can visit Canada doesn’t mean anything sinister.

Th: Let’s write that in a note, put it in a plastic bag, and pin to your shirt so the police will understand when they pull your body out of the water down there, okay?

Te: They would understand if you told them, no?

Th: Hell, no – I’ll be in Canada by then – I can see the bridge from here. But here’s a thought: Why not avoid the whole mess by coming back over here with me and we’ll go see the Falls up close.

Tempest, looking across the square at the rushing water that disappears suddenly from view, and now realizing that the Falls are really close to the edge of the square, moves toward the low metal railing at a quickened pace.

Te: Hey, look how low the railing is over here!

Th: (muttering under his breath) Running toward the falls…nope, nothing could go wrong there…

Four Days Off From Work - What Shall We Do?

Thunder and I managed to finagle  some time off from work. We decided to board the boys at their favorite place.  Then we thought…  Let’s. Do. Something.

We decided that gambling was just the ticket.  But where?  I wanted to get away from home, so Atlantic City and Bethlehem, PA were out.  Where could we go and feel that we were away without really getting on a plane and making it a thing?

I thought of Niagara Falls!  

I’d been there before on the Canadian side, but not on the NY side.  And they’ve opened a casino.  Something for everyone:  gambling for Thunder, and sensuously rushing water for me.  I love moving water - ocean waves, waterfalls, rushing rivers.  I find it stimulating and soothing at the same time, and way too much like an aphrodisiac.

We decided to take Amtrak to Niagara Falls instead of driving. It was a long ride, but we were definitely smart to book Business Class instead of Coach. The seats were very wide – like sitting in First Class on an airplane, but more room - the legroom was unbelievable. I had nearly 3 feet from my chest to the seat back in front of me. You don’t have to stow everything on a train the way you do on an airplane. We had all kinds of bags at our feet so that we could pull out the laptop (WiFi – Free!) and IPods and such to entertain ourselves. Business class was just one half of a train car. It was 15 seats: 1 row of double seats, a very wide aisle and then one row of single seats. Really, it was very nice.

The ride took longer than it should have. It was supposed to be 7 ½ hours. It was more like 9 hours because we hit delays on the tracks. I also thought I’d see more scenery, but then it occurred to me on the train that the tracks would be installed in removed areas – not through Main Street for crying out loud. I did miss seeing scenery the way I would have if we had driven. But then we probably would have taken 2 days to drive up since I get cranky in a car after about 4 hours. Truth be told, I was pretty damn cranky on the train after about 4 hours as well. But here I could get up, walk into the Café car and get a drink, walk to the rest room.

The downside for Thunder is that I wouldn’t let him sleep very much. It’s one thing to snore on a car ride loud enough to shake the EZPass off the windshield. It’s another thing to part the hair of the man in front of you on the train. So I kept nudging him when he got too loud.

Since we’ll both have a good night’s sleep before boarding for the return trip, he should be awake for most of the ride. We’ll have to find something to do to amuse ourselves on the long ride back home.

What’s the Amtrak equivalent of the Mile-High Club?

I Vowed, “For Better or Worse,” But Not “For Jail”

This is how I get myself into trouble:

Thunder is in the kitchen making himself a grilled cheese sandwich.  I’m sitting in the dining room at my computer.  It’s an unseasonably warm evening in March and all the windows are open.  I’m talking to myself while reading a blog about some idiot’s behavior -

(mumbling) There’s no way this guy is telling the truth…  (reading some more)

No   way…kiddie porn does not just ‘appear‘ on your computer…

This guy’s a douche and a liar and a pedophile… (reading some more)

Who is stupid enough to believe this lie?  (reading)

Hmm…I wonder how the police knew he had this stuff…

And now I begin wondering about this stupid guy’s situation and trying to figure out the investigational aspects and a question comes to mind.  So I  decide to ask Thunder, a man who knows everything, what he thinks:

“Hey, how DO the police know YOU downloaded kiddie porn?

Not surprisingly, Thunder comes rushing out of the kitchen into the dining room.  He looks at me and then looks at the open windows.  He shakes his head, and turns back to the kitchen, mumbling, ” I don’t even know how to fix this.”  (then louder over his shoulder to me)  WINDOWS!  OPEN!

Te: (looking around)   Tee!

Th: (raised voice from kitchen)  NOT FUNNY!

And once again, I’m just hoping that the neighbors have their memos handy.

Does This Make Me a Whistleblower?

I was getting ready for work this morning and ended up sitting on the sofa with the doggies while putting on my shoes. I was whistling while I was tying my laces…well, trying to whistle - I’ve never been able to whistle. It comes out mostly as air infused with some high-pitched strangling sound. Even trying to whistle a tune with low notes in it comes out as high.

I knew I was in trouble when Brinkley The Dog padded over to me on the sofa, looked at me, sat and put his paw up on my face, nearly over my lips. What is he trying to tell me?

I Am A Proud Member of The American Association of Risque People

The little boy at the Dunkin’ Donuts counter automatically gave me a Senior discount last night. I got into the car and cried a little (much to Thunder’s dismay).

I told my sisters about it, and my sister, Ruby, said, “What were you expecting? The cougar discount?”

Hmmm…I think that’s exactly what I will ask for now.  I’ll just need to find a black marker to change the definition of AARP on the card.

Modern Tails: A One-Act Play about Easter Traditions

Scene: Late Saturday evening, night before Easter Sunday, driving home

Tempest: Since you really weren’t religious as a kid, did your family celebrate Easter?

Thunder: Well, we didn’t go to church.

Te: Did your parents do the whole Easter Bunny thing?

Th: Uhm…sort of…we colored eggs

Te: Did the Easter Bunny visit you and leave you presents?

Th: Presents? Are there specific Easter presents?

Te: Of course – socks and underwear!  Duh!

Th: …and the religious significance of socks and underwear is…

Te: …I…don’t know…it’s just what we got in our baskets every year…

Th: …*blink*…Is it because Jesus was buried in just his socks and underwear behind the big rock?

Te: It has nothing to do with Jesus. It has everything to do with the Easter Bunny and jelly beans and chocolate bunnies.

Th: But why an Easter Bunny? Was a special bunny present at the crucifixion? And why does the Easter Bunny bring chocolate versions of himself for you to eat? Santa doesn’t do that. The Tooth Fairy doesn’t put big marshmallow teeth under your pillow so that more teeth fall out. What’s with the chocolate bunnies?

Te: You didn’t get chocolate bunnies on Easter, did you.

Th: (sadly) No.     (brightly) But we did color eggs and we did search for them on Easter morning. There was no Easter Bunny. My parents gave us small bags of M&Ms – that’s all the chocolate we got. No presents. No holy socks or underwear. No chocolate bunnies.

Te: Well, at least you got colored eggs.

Th: Well, yes…but we weren’t allowed to eat them. We could search for them in the yard. Then we came in and ate regular, white, hard-boiled eggs because we weren’t allowed to eat the colored ones from the yard.

Te: Okay, so let’s recap: You colored eggs. Your parents hid them in the scummy, dirty yard and you searched for them. But you had to eat plain hard-boiled eggs once the search was over. No chocolate bunnies, but you did get small bags of M&Ms. No socks. No underwear. No church…Explain to me why you even bothered to color eggs if you really didn’t participate in any part of this thing?

Th: Because my parents didn’t want other kids to think we were different.

Te: Riiiiightttt. How did that work out?

Th: Not so much.

and Scene

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