We picked 'the best' line at Customs, crossing from Canada into the U.S. Well, it seemed like a good choice. Neither Roni, nor I believe in regret. My philosophy is that one must consider all the information that's available at the time and make the best decision he can. That said, I regret that I chose this lane.
First, I had to explain the pole. Then the pump. And the cooler of medications (all in original packaging with original labels from the pharmacy). "I guess you got all those needles and stuff, too, then?" he drawled, rummaging through the box of tubing and syringes. "I use a needle-less system," I explained, flashing the intravenous port embedded below my clavicle. The packages in the boxes look like "needles and stuff", but technically, they're not. He didn't seem to care about the distinction.
Since beginning a regimen of TPN nutrition and IV medication I have travelled between Canada and the U.S. on many occasions. Why, just last month, Michelle, our two brothers and I entered the U.S. at a different border crossing, with all my usual paraphernalia, without any difficulty at all...well, except having to explain different citizenship and last names even though we are siblings.
Finally, we were allowed to enter. It's a road trip. Let the games begin! A sign in western New York state proved we were in The Zone after we both interpreted it the same way and made the same joke about it. Soon after that, at the same time, we made the same jokes at the end of a story. We kill each other, we're so funny!Roni related a story about an online chat she was participating in recently. As she told me what she 'said' she moved her fingers in the air above the dashboard, imitating typing. I asked her to stop since it was evoking a memory from high school typing class. We had the same teacher. Her name was Ms....Ms...Ms...B.....also taught phys. ed....Ms. B. Curses! How do I inevitably get sucked into the remember the name of the person who....on these trips?
Soon, we found ourselves crossing into Pennsylvania. Roni has history with Pennsylvania. She loves the state so much that she has difficulty leaving it. She gets lost in Pennsylvania...every time. On that last road trip we took; again last year, in Philadelphia; the year before that, with Lori.
She wanted to drive, but I told her I was fine. I wasn't going to take any chances. I had to get to Ohio. Eventually, we stopped for dinner. We ordered and went to get our drinks at the soda fountain. I filled my cup 2/3- full with Dr. Pepper then added a little 7-Up, then topped it off with some more Dr. Pepper. I can't remember the last time I did that.
"What's that called?" Roni asked. "Mud-something. Muddy-something. Dirty..." Curses, it's that damn game again. We walked to a table in the nearly-empty restaurant. Just as I turned toward our table, I spotted a boy of about 10-years old at another table. I was thinking of approaching him to ask what it's called when you mix a bunch of different soft drinks together and then, I had it. I opened my mouth, but I'd lost the word. Roni encouraged me to retrace my steps to try to remember.
"That never works," I told her. But I did it anyway. I made the turn, looked at the boy and blurted out,"Swamp-water."
In Cleveland, we arrived at the hotel and Lori was waiting for us. After we got the rooms set up, I looked at Roni and said "Burnham."
"That's it," she agreed. "Ms. Burnham." (I also pulled out Ron Griffin's name, previously only identified as the guy who drove the brown Chevette). Turned out that Lori wasn't getting our Smokey and the Bandit bit, which confirmed it was a full-out 'You-had-to-be-there'.
[Cleveland Clinic] [Smokey and the Bandit]
