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Michael Coren at the Border May 13, 2001 Greetings! The Paperless One really is running out of things to write, now that his daily scribble column has been up on www.scribble.nu for an entire week now. The Leafs choked in New Jersey, Brantford Boy Chris Gratton and the Buffalo Sabres got stoned by the Penguins, and Peter Forsberg played his spleen out! The Asian Prince has wooed us at www.egulphy.com, by possibly producing the "best website ever". The Paperless One has even found a replacement for his Napster, which has forsaken him so, by lying to him and saying "NO, there's NO songs by Metallica on the ENTIRE INTERNET!". That's all old news, now, so what else is there to talk about? Here's something: the Paperless One LOVES columns. Can't get enough of 'em. Laughs, cries...agrees, disagrees...thinks Rachel Sa is the coolest. However, there are a few columnists out there that the Paperless One reads for the sole purpose of seeing what kind of shit is being spewed. Come to think of it, these are usually in the Toronto Sun. My favourite columnists to hate are Christina Blizzard, Linda Leatherdale, and Michael Coren. Yes, they all write for the "little paper that grew", and are usually found spouting off about abortion, Puritanism, capitalism, and right-wing propaganda.
It reminded me of a border crossing that the Paperless One and some friends made about ten years ago, en route to Virginia Beach in a "borrowed" car. The car really WAS borrowed - it was a friend's mother's car, lent to him by his dad. The only problem with the situation was that he and his mother didn't exactly speak to one another. We were well informed that "we'd never make it across the border in this stolen car", and that we would be met at gunpoint by those crazed Americans at the border. It didn't exactly happen. The closest thing to a confrontation that we had was a run-in with a curious border guard who wanted to know why we had crutches in the trunk of the car, with the most obvious reason being to assist the Paperless One in walking, for I had a gigantic cast on my leg, which was sprawled out between the bucket seats from the back seat. It seemed so obvious - the cast on my broken leg could have been a giant bag of cocaine, and Mr. Border guard was still wondering what we were doing with these strange wooden devices in the truck! A line as good as Michael Coren's border guard's "You don't sound like a Canadian" came out of this guy's mouth as well. Sure, we were just a bunch of punk ass kids on our way to a weekend-long piss-up, but just because we were Canadians, we didn't warrant this amusing statement: "You guys are Canadian - you must have at least ONE B & E (break & enter conviction)?" We were sorry to disappoint, but had no scandalous past to offer this guy. To the credit of border guards everywhere, the Paperless One has never since had any difficulty at the border, and has crossed over to "the other side" several times, usually to see hockey games, without incident. Of course, I didn't tell the Detroit border guard that we were REALLY there to see the Leafs!
I had to modify this one a bit (unfortunately), but it's still on the page!
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Wow!
The Paperless One was surprised to see a Michael Coren column that actually rung
a bell. He was on his way across the border, and in the process, was
apparently hassled and harassed by American border Nazis. The only thing
that Michael could not have had going for him was that "he didn't sound
like a Canadian!". As a result, he was subjected to just about every
device short of a body cavity search. On one hand, I should have gained
amusement over the picture in my mind of this Elmer Fudd looking guy in a Toyota
Tercel being badgered by a guy with a gun and a bad attitude, but on the the
other hand, I felt a certain kinship with him.
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