Ok....so I have no great love for authority.....and at times I have been known to flaunt that dislike a little too openly....
Around 1991 I worked as the manager for an extreme sports filmmaker Greg Stump. At the time we were doing a ski film, Dr. Strangeglove...(of course we were..) .....we had a number of corporate sponsors who gave us money or products or both....one of the sponsors was K2 skis which were then out of Bainbridge Island just off of Seattle Washington.....We were given 20 skis and snowboards by K2 as part of our deal....
I needed to get them back to Whistler for an event and filming so I asked my 20 year old Brother in law Danny if he wanted a free snowboard..."Sure Dude.." hey said..."the only catch...you need to drive down to K2 and pick up the stuff and bring it back"..."Sure Dude"...he said....
So off he went, picked up the skis and snowboards and came back to Canada...this took all day and about 7 o'clock in the evening I had still not heard from him.....I was getting concerned....
The phone rang...."Hey Dude...I am stuck at the border and can't get out...."The Man" is being a Dick...."
Ok...I thought...I can fix this......I am on the "MAN's" wavelength..."I'll be right down Danny..." "Ok Dude...but hurry, they are pissing me off..."...Not a good thing to piss off guys with guns I thought...
Down I went...arriving at the border I found Danny to be in the commercial impound compound..."hey Danny...I told you to go through the regular lanes and tell them you were a pro skier and these were yours"...."I did Dude...but them didn't believe me...then The MAN sent me here and I'm locked in an impound lot.......Dude..."
I'll fix this....off to the counter to speak with and straighten out this border guard.......(What was I Thinking....?)
"So...I see you have my Brother in law in the impound compound...what seems to be the problem...?"
An indecipherable grunt from the 6'3" creature with the Glock sidearm who stood on the other side of the counter......."He does not have the appropriate paperwork"...
"Well...these are for personal use.." I state...
"Don't care...he still needs the paperwork..." cites The MAN
Ok..I say to myself...how hard can this be to figure out....."Alright...what info do you need...?" I inquire of the Taser Toting cretin....
" He needs to fill out a T5-72-B and include the duty rate from table 14 section 7c.....it is all in the books over there..."
He might as well have been speaking Albanian......I had no idea what he said...but I do know the information he wanted was in the Manhattantelephone directory sized books sitting across the room from me....
I can do this I said to myself.......Simple.....Who the fuck was I kidding...I am the least linear human being to ever walk the face of the earth...I embrace (and often create) chaos.....I can figure out how to make a toaster from a roll of Saran Wrap and a solar panel but fill out a form.....what was I thinking.... ?
So I filled out the form once....back to the counter...."No" he said....."No!..." No to what...? I said..
"You forgot the tariff section... "
Ok...back to the book....tariffs, tariffs...must be in here...oh...ok...tarriffs...it says...."any product made in the USA that is not made in any other country but has more than 34% of materials made in the following countries, Burma, Ceylon, etc etc...is subject to a varying tariff rate of 3%- 78%..while the products with less than 4% Aargon matter and are 34% made in Burma, Ceylon etc...will not be subject to a trade tariff unless the product has been made by dwarfs..."
Who fucking makes this shit up.....?
Ok.....aim the pen at the tick box on the form and put in something...hope for the best....they won't really check...will they......back to the counter...."No"...he says again.....that's wrong....."What's wrong?" I say....the rate?...."What should it be?" I said...."Its in the book"...he said.....
So for another hour or so...this went on and on.....my brother in law was waiting...his car in the impound compound.....and I was getting ever more vocal and frustrated......
4th visit to the counter I am on the verge of histrionics.... "I am a taxpayer...I should not be treated like this...." That tactic, as I found out...is not a good one.........he has the Glock and the Taser...and the car...and the skis and the snowboards....and my nuts...all in the palm of his ham sized hand...
At the same time that I am about to pull out the last ditch effort of saying.." my birthday is the same as Pierre Trudeau...I should be exempt from this hassle..." out of desperation and exasperation I look to my left at the next counter for help of any kind....and who do I see....?
My childhood friend...Darrell Stephenson......! How weird is this.....?.what is he doing in the impound compound at the border.....hmmm...he has paperwork...and the border guard is actually nice to him......wow... How did he do that..?
"Hey Darrell..."...Big smile...we embrace, shake hands.....catch up....still married to Chris Horne..? Kids..? what where when and how...etc etc..."
"Yeah all is good " he says....."What are you doing here?"...."Oh...I am stuck at the border with this dickhead and he won't let me go as I have skis and don't meet the tariff rates or some such fucking nonsense...and the car is in a locked and gated compound. !"..."what are you doing here?" I ask .....
"I am a trucker......this is my regular route..."....."cool" I say..." Listen" Says Darrell....I have to get one more piece of paperwork filled out...I'll be right back"....and off he goes....
Nice to catch up...despite the unusual circumstances....
At this point I am really frustrated...it has been 2 hours....the car and skis are still stuck and my brother in law is no longer calling me Dude....all of these things are bad signs....
Just as I am about to go and talk to Danny the brother in law, I see Darrell walking across the Customs room.....He is coming towards me...but not looking me in the eye....this is weird... I think.....Just as we are about to pass I say to him..."Hey great to see you again...we should stay in touch...." He shakes my hand...not saying a word...palms something into my hand and walks away and out the door...
What the hell!..that is just weird.....I look into my hand....he has handed off to me a 50 cent parking token....." A parking token....!....a FUCKING PARKING token...that is just too weird..." I stare at it....hmmm.....he must be on Crack I think....I put the token into my pocket....not sure what to think...
I turn and cross back the room to where my brother in law is sitting...fuming.....stewing...
" Danny"...I say..."Can't you just drive out of the compound?"...."No....Dude....the compound is locked, there is great big fucking gate that won't open unless you have a parking token....!"....
B-I-N-G-O !!!!
"You mean like this one?" grabbing it hungrily out of my pants pocket...."Yup...Dude, you're a genius".....
I give him the token....and my blessing..."go for it..."......Off Danny goes to the compound...I go to wait in my car sitting outside the compound....moments later......the gate slides open...out drives Danny..... BONUS!...we are free....
Off we go.....home free....woohoo...I thought there might be some consequences...but really....what can they do....how will they find us....we are good people.....no harm no foul right...?
I get home 45 minutes later.....sat down and cracked a beer.....bringgg...phone rings...." John Graham?"....oh-oh...."Mr. Graham this is the RCMP and Customs control....were you here earlier this evening?"...."ah....maybe.."..." No maybes about it Mr Graham, were you or were you not here tonight?....."Ummmm...yes.....but I can explain...!"....
"Mr Graham...what you have done is a Federal offense.......you must be here at the border by 8:00 a.m. tomorrow or we will arrest you....is that understood?'....ummm...yup...
A sleepless night ensued....I wondered if they would waterboard me....pull out my fingernails with pliers....make me admit to crimes I hadn't committed... I was toast....
The next morning...8 a.m ...I am at the border......
" May I see Constable Schmidt please...my name is John Graham..."
"Oh...Mr Graham...we have been waiting for you.......I see you ran the border last night...this is an indictable offense.....you do know that..?".... I was not sure the correct answer to this....other than to shit my pants...
"Ok..."..."What can I do...?"
"Well...here's what we will be doing...you go sit down over there and we will figure out the duty and tariff rate along with any penalty...we will then triple the penalty and tariff amount sand that will be the fine....got it?"
Oh shit....I am hooped.....
So for half an hour I watched as Sgt Sedanko....(Cheech and Chong reference) went through tariff books, rate sheets and every other manual, binder in the place...the occasional "humpf" emanating from him....
" Mr Graham"...more of a command than a question...." Mr Graham, come here..."...
I approached the counter....what would be my punishment..... ?
" Mr Graham....I have some news for you....K2 is the ONLY ski manufactured domestically in the U.S......as such there is no duties or tariffs......so 3 times nothing...is still nothing...consider yourself lucky.....get out of here....and I never want to see you again....ok?"
I couldn't believe my luck.............
Around 1991 I worked as the manager for an extreme sports filmmaker Greg Stump. At the time we were doing a ski film, Dr. Strangeglove...(of course we were..) .....we had a number of corporate sponsors who gave us money or products or both....one of the sponsors was K2 skis which were then out of Bainbridge Island just off of Seattle Washington.....We were given 20 skis and snowboards by K2 as part of our deal....
I needed to get them back to Whistler for an event and filming so I asked my 20 year old Brother in law Danny if he wanted a free snowboard..."Sure Dude.." hey said..."the only catch...you need to drive down to K2 and pick up the stuff and bring it back"..."Sure Dude"...he said....
So off he went, picked up the skis and snowboards and came back to Canada...this took all day and about 7 o'clock in the evening I had still not heard from him.....I was getting concerned....
The phone rang...."Hey Dude...I am stuck at the border and can't get out...."The Man" is being a Dick...."
Ok...I thought...I can fix this......I am on the "MAN's" wavelength..."I'll be right down Danny..." "Ok Dude...but hurry, they are pissing me off..."...Not a good thing to piss off guys with guns I thought...
Down I went...arriving at the border I found Danny to be in the commercial impound compound..."hey Danny...I told you to go through the regular lanes and tell them you were a pro skier and these were yours"...."I did Dude...but them didn't believe me...then The MAN sent me here and I'm locked in an impound lot.......Dude..."
I'll fix this....off to the counter to speak with and straighten out this border guard.......(What was I Thinking....?)
"So...I see you have my Brother in law in the impound compound...what seems to be the problem...?"
An indecipherable grunt from the 6'3" creature with the Glock sidearm who stood on the other side of the counter......."He does not have the appropriate paperwork"...
"Well...these are for personal use.." I state...
"Don't care...he still needs the paperwork..." cites The MAN
Ok..I say to myself...how hard can this be to figure out....."Alright...what info do you need...?" I inquire of the Taser Toting cretin....
" He needs to fill out a T5-72-B and include the duty rate from table 14 section 7c.....it is all in the books over there..."
He might as well have been speaking Albanian......I had no idea what he said...but I do know the information he wanted was in the Manhattantelephone directory sized books sitting across the room from me....
I can do this I said to myself.......Simple.....Who the fuck was I kidding...I am the least linear human being to ever walk the face of the earth...I embrace (and often create) chaos.....I can figure out how to make a toaster from a roll of Saran Wrap and a solar panel but fill out a form.....what was I thinking.... ?
So I filled out the form once....back to the counter...."No" he said....."No!..." No to what...? I said..
"You forgot the tariff section... "
Ok...back to the book....tariffs, tariffs...must be in here...oh...ok...tarriffs...it says...."any product made in the USA that is not made in any other country but has more than 34% of materials made in the following countries, Burma, Ceylon, etc etc...is subject to a varying tariff rate of 3%- 78%..while the products with less than 4% Aargon matter and are 34% made in Burma, Ceylon etc...will not be subject to a trade tariff unless the product has been made by dwarfs..."
Who fucking makes this shit up.....?
Ok.....aim the pen at the tick box on the form and put in something...hope for the best....they won't really check...will they......back to the counter...."No"...he says again.....that's wrong....."What's wrong?" I say....the rate?...."What should it be?" I said...."Its in the book"...he said.....
So for another hour or so...this went on and on.....my brother in law was waiting...his car in the impound compound.....and I was getting ever more vocal and frustrated......
4th visit to the counter I am on the verge of histrionics.... "I am a taxpayer...I should not be treated like this...." That tactic, as I found out...is not a good one.........he has the Glock and the Taser...and the car...and the skis and the snowboards....and my nuts...all in the palm of his ham sized hand...
At the same time that I am about to pull out the last ditch effort of saying.." my birthday is the same as Pierre Trudeau...I should be exempt from this hassle..." out of desperation and exasperation I look to my left at the next counter for help of any kind....and who do I see....?
My childhood friend...Darrell Stephenson......! How weird is this.....?.what is he doing in the impound compound at the border.....hmmm...he has paperwork...and the border guard is actually nice to him......wow... How did he do that..?
"Hey Darrell..."...Big smile...we embrace, shake hands.....catch up....still married to Chris Horne..? Kids..? what where when and how...etc etc..."
"Yeah all is good " he says....."What are you doing here?"...."Oh...I am stuck at the border with this dickhead and he won't let me go as I have skis and don't meet the tariff rates or some such fucking nonsense...and the car is in a locked and gated compound. !"..."what are you doing here?" I ask .....
"I am a trucker......this is my regular route..."....."cool" I say..." Listen" Says Darrell....I have to get one more piece of paperwork filled out...I'll be right back"....and off he goes....
Nice to catch up...despite the unusual circumstances....
At this point I am really frustrated...it has been 2 hours....the car and skis are still stuck and my brother in law is no longer calling me Dude....all of these things are bad signs....
Just as I am about to go and talk to Danny the brother in law, I see Darrell walking across the Customs room.....He is coming towards me...but not looking me in the eye....this is weird... I think.....Just as we are about to pass I say to him..."Hey great to see you again...we should stay in touch...." He shakes my hand...not saying a word...palms something into my hand and walks away and out the door...
What the hell!..that is just weird.....I look into my hand....he has handed off to me a 50 cent parking token....." A parking token....!....a FUCKING PARKING token...that is just too weird..." I stare at it....hmmm.....he must be on Crack I think....I put the token into my pocket....not sure what to think...
I turn and cross back the room to where my brother in law is sitting...fuming.....stewing...
" Danny"...I say..."Can't you just drive out of the compound?"...."No....Dude....the compound is locked, there is great big fucking gate that won't open unless you have a parking token....!"....
B-I-N-G-O !!!!
"You mean like this one?" grabbing it hungrily out of my pants pocket...."Yup...Dude, you're a genius".....
I give him the token....and my blessing..."go for it..."......Off Danny goes to the compound...I go to wait in my car sitting outside the compound....moments later......the gate slides open...out drives Danny..... BONUS!...we are free....
Off we go.....home free....woohoo...I thought there might be some consequences...but really....what can they do....how will they find us....we are good people.....no harm no foul right...?
I get home 45 minutes later.....sat down and cracked a beer.....bringgg...phone rings...." John Graham?"....oh-oh...."Mr. Graham this is the RCMP and Customs control....were you here earlier this evening?"...."ah....maybe.."..." No maybes about it Mr Graham, were you or were you not here tonight?....."Ummmm...yes.....but I can explain...!"....
"Mr Graham...what you have done is a Federal offense.......you must be here at the border by 8:00 a.m. tomorrow or we will arrest you....is that understood?'....ummm...yup...
A sleepless night ensued....I wondered if they would waterboard me....pull out my fingernails with pliers....make me admit to crimes I hadn't committed... I was toast....
The next morning...8 a.m ...I am at the border......
" May I see Constable Schmidt please...my name is John Graham..."
"Oh...Mr Graham...we have been waiting for you.......I see you ran the border last night...this is an indictable offense.....you do know that..?".... I was not sure the correct answer to this....other than to shit my pants...
"Ok..."..."What can I do...?"
"Well...here's what we will be doing...you go sit down over there and we will figure out the duty and tariff rate along with any penalty...we will then triple the penalty and tariff amount sand that will be the fine....got it?"
Oh shit....I am hooped.....
So for half an hour I watched as Sgt Sedanko....(Cheech and Chong reference) went through tariff books, rate sheets and every other manual, binder in the place...the occasional "humpf" emanating from him....
" Mr Graham"...more of a command than a question...." Mr Graham, come here..."...
I approached the counter....what would be my punishment..... ?
" Mr Graham....I have some news for you....K2 is the ONLY ski manufactured domestically in the U.S......as such there is no duties or tariffs......so 3 times nothing...is still nothing...consider yourself lucky.....get out of here....and I never want to see you again....ok?"
I couldn't believe my luck.............
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