Day 6


I am sitting in a truck stop about 300 meters from the American/Canadian border. In the past six days I have attempted to cross at seven different border checkpoints, and if tonight too is unsuccessful, I may have to admit defeat, at least in this avenue.

Of all improbabilities, I am accessing the truck stop's wi-fi, using the laptop of a man named--and I could not possibly make this up--Beau Grecco. (Teach me to never make certain character assumptions about truck stops and the clientele who visit them.)

Beau uses some sort of software I have never even heard of, let alone used, so again, forgive me if this post looks a bit strange. As soon as I post we are leaving and then Beau and I try once again to gain America's bountiful shores. (Or in this case, Spokane, Washington.)

I realize that when I left you last Thursday my missive was at best cryptic, at worst so out of left field that most of you were left with interet whiplash.

In the few moments I have left (as I have been able to persuade Beau that a second helping of pie is in order), allow me to attempt to explain.

When first I moved to the great White North that is Canada, I openly admitted it was to be in the Witness Protection Program. Numerous queries as to exactly why I was in the Witness Protection Program (and why Canada?) were ignored, but you can hardly take me for that big a fool. (And if you can, keep it to yourself.)

Despite my refusal to discuss the incident(s) that led to my arrival in the Land o' the Maple Leaf, I was quite forthright about the overall mission, for the simple reason that I trusted the anonymity of the net. Not leaving anything to chance, I even took the steps to make it seem like my net usage came from across the country, so that when other net denizens checked their stats they would assume I browsed from somwhere else entirely.

Pretty clever, huh?

However, I was done in by--who else?--Brittany Bratt.

As most of you know, an inadvertant mention of Miss Bratt in Monkey Barn led to all sorts of trouble for me: conflicts of interest, unhappy women; even an attempted revolt. (One day, when this is all over, remind me to tell you of those gory details. Better yet: maybe I can make it this year's Halloween story.)

I thought all that trouble was behind me, though, water under the bridge. You know what they say: "Swat at a gnat: swallow a camel."

The Brittany Bratt hits shot me far up on the Blog-0-Scale, so far, in fact, as to finally become noticeable to people who have, shall we say, taken an keen interest in my erstwhile whereabouts.

I always knew this day would come. I planned for it, best I could. But like a man who cannot properly read a clock, I thought I would have more time.

when word came, a one sentence terse warning, I knew I must move, and move RIGHT NOW. What is it Neal says in HEAT?

"Become attached to nothing in life you can't walk away from in
thirty seconds flat if you spot the heat around the corner."

Most of my life is that way. Most of my life can be walked away from, and quite quickly at that.

But not you, gentle readers. Never you.

Knowing it was a danger, I spent a few precious minutes, crafting a goodbye message. It was not the masterpiece of elegance I had always envisioned, but at least I got one out.

And now I roam, hoping to avoid capture until I have made right what was wrong.

Posting? It will be infrequent at best, but I do what I can. Check back often, and hopefully we meet here again soon.

Better yet, leave the light on your back porch lit. You never know when a safe haven I will need.
Beau is paying for the repast, so I must away. Stay safe and think of me often.

You know I often think of you.

8:07 pm


clblogs said...

I just don't understand why it would be tough to get back. Can't you just turn yourself into Canada and tell them you are an illegal alien.

hahah. free trip back to home!

Anonymous said...

Is this a new Tolkien adventure? With phrases like "when a safe haven I will need" and "so I must away" it sure sounds like one.

I don't understand why you can't cross you are an American citizen. Do you not have any ID?

Oh and thanks to me (and Ethan not starting a kicker) you won your first fantasy football game last week.

Lady Jane Scarlett said...

We miss you Hypey, our porch light is always on.
Lady Jane and Lord Mullett

Anonymous said...

Well this was the most interesting thing I've read in many, many moons...I'm looking forward to more updates, if time (and your circumstances) And I thought I had stuff going on...

Anonymous said...

(In my best Leslie Neilson impression) "Good luck, we're all counting on you."

Always have space for the likes of you in my home!

Skittles said...

we'll all be your tom bodett and leave the light on for you, hon. there's plenty of place down here and a vicious attack poodle to gaurd ya.

tiff said...

Dude - watch your back with Beau....he's got the reacharound down pat.

It's wonderful to hear from you; here's hoping all is well with you and that you're safely in Spokane by now.

rennratt said...

Glad to see that you are ok.

It is always harder to get OUT of Canada than it is to get IN to it.

'Jax said...

I'm having visions of Gene Hackman from 'Enemy of the State':

WS: Why'd you blow up the building?
GH: You made a phonecall!