From Seattle, one can be in Vancouver, B. C. in—what?—depending on traffic, less than three hours. I've been there dozens of times. John Dwyer used to go a couple of times a month to take in the Vancouver Song Circle meetings. Canadians zing down to Bellingham (just across the border) or to Seattle frequently. Hardly like "going to a foreign country" at all!

Crossing the border at Blaine (location of the Peace Arch) was no sweat. More often than not, you didn't even have to get out of your car. Crank down the window and the border guard would check your car registration, write down your license plate number, then ask you where you were from and what the purpose of your trip was ("Recreation" or "visiting friends" or "shopping") was perfectly satisfactory. He'd say something like, "Enjoy your stay," wave you through. On the way back, on the American side, the border guard would ask, "Do you have anything to declare?" or "Are you bringing back any alcoholic beverages?" If "yes," he might want to see a sales slip to see if there was any duty on your purchase (rare), or if it was alcohol, he'd tell you that you couldn't bring it into the country. Weird Washington State liquor laws and all. If "No," he'd just wave you through. Once in a great while he might ask you to open your luggage, but usually that was only if you were acting nervous or weird.   

Now they're telling us we have to get a %@#&*@!# passport!!!???

Like, with a 3,000 mile border, somebody who wanted to commit mayhem couldn't get across unnoticed!?? An acquaintance of mine said that she and her boyfriend used to bring drugs into the U. S. all the time by just taking a walk through the woods a mile or so from the check-points and crossing the border there. Barring radar, an electric chain-link fence topped with razor wire, a couple of moats full of alligators, and a battalion of vicious dogs, it would be pretty hard to keep someone in or out.

Just this morning, a security guard on routine patrol (you, know: walks by ever few hours) spotted someone sneaking out of a container on one of the docks on Seattle's waterfront. Story here. The container had been sitting there since 8:30 a.m. Tuesday. Since I live only a few miles from there, I'm a helluva lot more concerned about a dirty bomb smuggled in on a container ship (only 4% of the containers are inspected beyond simply looking at the manifest) than I am about the possible evil intentions of some renegade bassoon player.

Somebody in the Hallé Orchestra is going to smuggle a nuclear bomb into the U. S. in a tuba case?

All this kind of stuff does is needlessly hassle the harmless folks.

Stupid politicians! Stupid bureaucrats!

Don Firth