Comments for David Rovics Banished! Too Dangerous for Canada at http://pacificfreepress.com , comment 0 to 1 out of 1 comments http://pacificfreepress.com Tue, 07 Oct 2008 01:50:01 +0100 FeedCreator 1.7.2 http://pacificfreepress.com/content/view/1199/81/#pc_1300 I sympathize in your case, but border policy has been afflicting Canadians entering the US for decades. This is nothing new for Canadians but is something new for Americans (read novel "My Discovery of America" by Farley Mowat). I personally have been affected by border laws, yet on a criminal level. This hardly compares to a denial of entry into Canada based on political leanings but affects me just the same. Difference is, I have to grin and bear it and have done so for years, in defiance, and will continue to do so for the years to come. Early 90's, Pink Floyd hits Vancouver and plays for two days in a row. As a huge fan of Pink Floyd my mates and I managed to round up tickets for the two consecutive days. One of my mates had a vehicle so transport wasn't a problem. I had a reliable contact for the herb so that wasn't a problem either. Five grams weighed (!!) of good quality bud, the only contact I had that actually weighed it for me and charged reasonably. We're ready to go. It's a bit a journey to Vancouver and we happened to pass Point Roberts border crossing along the way. That's when the idea to fill up on some American fuel and cigarettes for the journey came into plan. Why not, it'll only take us 30 minutes to an hour and we'll be out like a flash!? For those who don't know Point Roberts, it's a little piece of land attached to Canadian soil and surrounded by American waters. There's not much to see in Point Roberts and not far to explore since there is really no different in the surrounding landscape. It does have access to cheaper (than Canadian pricing) fuel and American products. I'm sure if you wanted to you could catch a ferry to the American main land but it's easier to go thirty minutes down the road and cross over there. Let's face it, Point Roberts is a tiny piece of land with nothing to offer other than a t shirt and or a button for your lapel. I had two options, ginch the gear or stash it on the side of the road and pick it up on the way back. Out came the gear from my cigarette pack and into my underwear it went. It was all very easy since it was in a little baggie. No problems, we'll be in and out in a flash. As we pull up to the boarder crossing, up comes Mr. Immigration Officer and the obvious question "What reason do you boys have for coming into Point Roberts?" To my surprise the driver, who had never crossed the border before answered honestly but with too much info. "We're on our way to the Pink Floyd concert in Vancouver and we're stopping off to grab some gasoline and cigarettes." Honesty is fine but that's a bit too much info for three long haired "hippy Jesus freaks" in a well cared for but scruffy 4x4. "Pull over and park there", instructs Mr. Officer. First the search of the vehicle and then a cross counter interrogation, Empty your pockets. Oh, a cigarette pack!! Out come the cigarettes and he taps out the crumbs of tobacco which were on left in the bottom of the pack. As he analyses the crumbs with the tip of his pen he manages to come across one crumb that "happens to be a little too green". You might think that I'm exaggerating but I'm not, it was one crumb that gave me away. A crumb no bigger than the crumbs of tobacco that didn't manage to stay in those poor quality, highly addictive, carcinogenic sticks that they freely sell across the counter and tax the hell out of us for. Strip search. I never once put up a fight. I didn't deny anything. I accepted my fate 100%, not that there was much I could do. I just hoped we would make it to the concert on time or at least my friends, which were set free as I was they only one with gear and declared responsibility. I then sat in a cell the size of a closet with one window out into the office for 5 hours as they waited for the sheriff and then "debated on whether they'll ship me to Seattle to be deported". Occasionally the typical american cop attitude looked into my cell to make sure I didn't hang myself with my belt with those cop shades that you thought they only sold for cheap hollywood cop TV programs and packing a huge hand cannon sufficient for taking down bears. The only time I voiced myself was in the presence of the Sheriff at the attempt of the interrogating officer to frame me with the weight of 11 grams, more than double the weight I actually had. At that point I just about lost it. "It does not weigh 11 grams! Weigh it again and this time without the baggie (not that a baggie weighs 6 grams.)!! " "What does it matter a few grams more, your still going to be prosecuted" protests the officer. To which I answered, "I've been straight and cooperative with you from the beginning, now it's your turn to treat me with fairness!!" In a way he's right. The law convicts starting from something like .01 of a gram to 40 grams, a rather broad range but with room for interpretation. He must have been embarrassed for all the kurfuffle over such a small quantity of pot and felt the need to double the weight, but there's is still a difference, in my minds eye, when 11 grams starts to push in to the fringe of questioning "Why so much in one go?? Are you thinking of trafficking?" The real weight of 5 grams was then declared and accepted. I was released with bail and a court case pending. We made it to the concert! A few months later my court case came up and I was back on the road to the good ol' US of A. We decided to leave the night before since my case was first thing in the morning. I just wanted to get it over with, in and out and back to my life as usual. We arrived at the border crossing nearing 2300 hrs. Typical questioning began, starting with the welcoming committee and then, of course, the officer at the counter. The officer at the counter asked my reason for entering to which I replied with the truth, " I'm entering for my court case tomorrow." I then handed the paperwork which the sheriff at Point Roberts instructed me to show upon entry, he assured I would have no problem. The mature lady officer studied the paperwork and sternly replied "Aren't you a bit early?" "I don't want to arrive late. We'll stay the night near the courts and that way I'll have no problem." She went off to ask a few questions and returned. "You'll have to come back tomorrow and try then. We don't want criminals such as yourself entering our country." Alright, alright, alright. Excuuuuuusssse me! I have a clear criminal record. I've never committed, nor felt the need, nor want, to commit antisocial behavior in my life. I'm not that type of person. I'm non violent, I don't steal, and treat people how I expect to be treated. Not once in this conversation was I disrespectful, nor was I once cheeky. Where in the hell did this arrogance come from? My response was unreserved. "Look here lady! I have come here out of need. I have a court date! I have not one inkling of a desire to enter YOUR country nor do I want to set foot in YOUR country. I only enter YOUR country for ONE thing, to go to YOUR courts, to do what is ordered of me and to leave when all is said and done. So what you're saying is I have to return tomorrow!?" "I'm sorry sir, you'll have to return tomorrow." At least the Old Hag included a "sorry" in her reply, even if she didn't feel it. I returned the day after to be rejected for not having the right paper work and I had to return weeks later after receiving the correct paper work. I returned the second time with no problems. Entered early in the morning and arrived on time. I sat in the court room sharing it with about 20 people more, Each standing at the order of the judge, hearing the charges against them, declaring and sitting back down to await sentencing or to broaden on the conditions of their defense and case. It reminded me of McDonald’s, um…..very efficient. I went with firm mind to enter, comply and leave with little or no problems as to go on with my life, I pleaded guilty. Once again it was my turn to stand up this time for sentencing. He read out what, where and why of my charges, confirmed my declaration and gave me my opportunity to speak, to which I asked that I the courts give me the minimum of sentencing due to the small quantity of pot and good conduct as I have important commitments back home." Of course, the judge doesn't modify laws but as it was a first conviction, the minimum in sentencing was applied in all cases, a $1200 fine and 24 hours in jail. I sat back down. Out of the blue the person sitting in front of me, a well dressed Mexican man with brief case, turned around and said, "You should have pleaded "not guilty". Rest assured that they've already smoked the evidence." That same day I paid my fine, went to jail and did my time. I also picked up the paper work for the waiver in order to enter the US in the future. It slowly came into realization that without a waiver I can NEVER set foot into the US. The waiver is for one year, which you must pay, upon application, $120 (? a decade ago) with NO guarantee that you'll be accepted. If you are denied you have to pay $120 again for another attempt. But that didn't really bother me. What really bothered me was that I had to voluntarily "inform" the RCMP on my waiver attempt and receive a written reply! Am I "informing" the RCMP or am I registering myself and voluntarily giving myself a criminal record in my own country on the behalf of the US of A? I'm sorry I refuse to do so, therefore I refuse to enter the US of A. They have enough criminals over there they don't need one more. I have since managed to live a full and happy life without setting foot in the US, for the last decade since this incident and I hope to do so for the years to come. I have since quit tobacco several times but this time I have managed to keep away from drug laced cigarettes for the last 4 months. I do plan a relapse in the future but with a top quality Havana cigar, the ones that last for 2 hours or more, not the poor quality, additive ridden, drug laced tobacco in legal, tailor made cigarettes that the government has allowed to be modified and unchecked over the decades under the ideals of the "purist capitalist spirit". As for Ganja, I've just plain stopped smoking it regularly several years ago. I very rarely take a puff and find no real want to, nor do I especially want to deal with its after effects but find no offense in doing so if I do please. I regularly opt for a lovely beer, good quality wine and or a lovely glass of straight single malt scotch whiskey, all examples of a drug that does infinitely more damage to other people and families than marijuana. I agree that Canada has been converted into America's lackey by our greedy non imaginative politicians. If Americans ever had a politician even close to likes of the crap that Canadians have needed to support over the years, including the most recent, Harper, they would never had passed into presidency alive. They would have been shot before they had a chance to reach the position and lead the country into subservience. Hopefully those Canadian nationalists that are never given a chance to be heard will not fade away into obscurity and Canadians will be given a chance to try to build a free and sovereign nation. - a guest Tue, 01 May 2007 14:42:59 +0100