Glamanate

Okay, finally it’s story time. I just woke up without reason and I think this will probably blow out my mind enough for me to go back to bed. I went to Canada once before, in 7th grade, for a French trip to Quebec. Lots of security measures have changed since then, before to fly you didn’t need a passport – and now you do. Luckily I hate planes and the TSA, so I rode a train. Next year on June 1st you can no longer use the whole valid ID and birth certificate routine; you’ll need a passport. However, everyone and their mother kept telling me different. Well guess what people? I was right, but thanks for caring.

My trip started at 5am Friday morning. Mark gave me a ride to the train station, got there about 35 minutes before the train departed. I took a few pictures of the sunrise, and soon enough we were able to board the train. Past times I’ve taken the morning trains theirs a variety of people, but that day it was all business folk.

I really hate the seats in the Metra, they’re just like a city bus; but what can you do? The conductor went around for people to buy tickets. I handed him my $7, which it turns out in February they bumped it up to $7.05  (why five cents, I don’t know). He was nice enough to not make me break a single for the five cents.

The train was alittle late, probably 5 minutes behind. But for me that was an “oh shit.” I’ve only been to the Ogilvie station once, sophomore year. I had studied a few maps to figure out how to get to the Amtrak Union Station, but I didn’t want to mess around. I didn’t need to worry much, I thought the station was a mile away, but it was only about 2 blocks. At first I walked into the Union Station for Metra. I saw on the little LED boards train statuses for Milwaukee. I didn’t even know they had a Milwaukee service. After a little more walking I reached the proper area.

While waiting in line, they were boarding a different train, I talked to a few people heading to Detroit. Wanted to see which gate, make sure I did not do anything stupid. While sitting a guy came up. He was very interesting. He wore what looked like a kilt, a fanny pack, had a half shaved head and a few dreads in the back.  He introduced himself as “Crash,” from Ann Arbor, MI.When they started initial passenger screening for elderly or those with children, I grabbed a spot by him. He asked if I knew how to play Yuker. Which I know I’ve learned once or twice, but he needed to reteach me. We exchanged stories of our towns. I told him about Punks on the Pier, and Punk Piknik. He told me about their Punk Week, which someone had mentioned to me in Kenosha before. Talked about our local scenes, the problems between them, and a bunch of random things.

They started to board all passengers, we kept talking and walking. The train car for Detroit was before his, so we departed for a short bit. I grabbed a seat, unloaded my book and CD player and relaxed. The train was damned cold. Every train is always cold. It is annoying.

About 30 minutes into the train ride he walked past me, asked if I was still up for Yuker. We walked between three train cars trying to find two more players. Everyone was either too shy, or too engulfed in their portable DVD players and laptops. We ended up finding two people. We all headed to the diner car to find a table to play at.

Unfortunately for us, there were no completely open tables. Out of the 5 in the car, one had some junk on it, and a stern man drinking his coffee. One was full of some upper middle class business goers, discussing mortgage rates and interest, something about the likes of that. Across from them was someone with their party, listening on the side chiming in once and a while. We sat at a table with a random passenger. We asked if we could use the table, but it turns out that was his seat. He bought a ticket on the spot, and had to sit there until other seats opened up. Our game of Yuker was dead before it started. Crash still taught me, though. We both went to our seats, I needed a nap badly.

As the train cruised through Illinois and Indiana, and finally Michigan I kept drifting between unconsciousness and consciousness.I’m not sure if Crash ever did pop back to get me and I was sleeping, or if that table never did open up. I woke up at the Ann Arbor stop, and I saw Crash walkout and around the train station with his bags. I still owe him that game. He mentioned that if I was ever in Ann Arbor, for say Punk Week, his couch was opened for me. Maybe one day we’ll start that game.

The rest of the train ride was dull. We were running roughly 30 minutes behind. Natalie and her dad got to the station 15 minutes before my previously expected arrival, 3:11pm. The train got into Detroit around 3:45 or so. As I stepped off the train with the other passengers, all I could think was “oh great, how am I going to find them?” But they had beat me to it, and were walking right up the steps as I entered the station.

It was hilarious. I shook her Dad’s hand, but instead of the regular good ‘ol sturdy handshake…we did the whole fancy teenage hand-grasp-slide-out-pound-it-shake. It made me laugh inside, mostly because I forgot he was a high school teacher. We jumped into their car and headed for the Tunnel. Her dad is one hell of a talker, that’s for sure. He gave quite a tour guide routine along the way. I also couldn’t help but laugh a little inside. Everytime he said “ey?” I just thought of Ver Bruggen cracking jokes about Canadians.

The Tunnel went smooth. There wasn’t as much traffic as I had expected. When we reached the customs agent I handed her Dad my ID and certificate. The customs agent did a quick glance over, and let us pass. I thought we’d for sure catch some kind of scrutiny. I mean, they just left Canada to pick someone up at the train station int he States. Whatever, we were innocent, and it’s nice not to be automatically treated guilty.

Her dad gave me a mini tour as we drove through Windsor. He was going to do a bigger drive, but Natalie said she’d show me around. Before we got to her house, he needed to stop off at a house he was leasing out to collect rent. When he got back in the car, he told us how the lady thought that house had given her bad luck. I guess her dog grew a tumor on its leg shortly after living there (but it looked older than dirt), and her daughter had just been arrested for trying to rob a gas station. Yes, because a house makes all that happen.

She lives in La Salle, a small town out side of Windsor. I’d compare as Somers to Kenosha. We got to her house around 4:30 or so. Her Dad led me to the guest room where I was staying. It was decked out in full out Star Wars paintings; it was pretty rad. I unpacked a few things and then we headed out.

We went to the mall, Natalie needed to pick up a new nose ring. There I met her friends Sarah and Brad. I also learned that popped collars and general looking like a stuck up bastard crossed all borders. It was weird seeing no familiar businesses. When I was in Montreal there were at least a few American businesses in the mall. She got her ring and we left for her friend Tiffany’s.

We were there for a bit. Tiffany told me she wanted to take me out to the bars, since the drinking age in Canada is 19. But I decided against it since Natalie couldn’t go – plus her parents wanted her home by 12:30. I couldn’t just ditch her. We left soon after we got there, her parents made dinner for about 5:30.

I came to learn that most of the bars in Windsor were also strip clubs. And that strip clubs and adult stores were allowed within city limits, unlike here in most cities in the States.

We got back to her house. Her parents were just finishing up making dinner. We had pasta and some bread. It was awesome. We talked a bit at the dinner table. My table manners kicked into full gear. Whenever I eat at a friends house, for the first few times, the most extreme table manners come out of me, and I don’t even know how I pull it off sometimes.

After dinner we went back to Tiffany’s to hang out. There it was Tiffany and Chantel. Tiffany was playing some guitar, and trying to get Chantel to sing along. We sat and listened to music, drove around a bit, came back. Nothing too exciting, but still a good time. We left around midnight.

When we got back her parents were in the living room. Natalie gave ‘em the boot so we could watch some movies on the TV. I don’t remember the first movie. But as we were watching it, her dad was on the computer doing some work; he’d come in a few times and talk to us. Then the most shocking thing happened; he offered Natalie a beer. Natalie was totally confused, since he maybe has done that once or twice. And next thing I knew he just handed me one when he grabbed one for himself. We then watched The Mask, didn’t quite finish it and went to bed. Which reminds me, that guest bed was amazing.

I woke up around noon, Natalie had actually beat me in waking up early – she told me she never wakes up before noon really. We took the dog for a walk along this paved path near her house. There is a small river, and the path follows most of it, from what I could tell, until it reaches a small reserve about a quarter the size of Poerio Park. The main reason was just so we could get a cig in, her little brother hates cigarettes. We had to turn back early, though, because her dog jumped into the water.

After we got back to her house, we went down to the river area. We laid down on the grass, but that didn’t last long. It was horribly humid and extremely overcast. I took a few pictures of some of the artwork along the river. Sometime later Sarah called, and we picked her up at her house. We went back to the mall because Sarah needed to return something.

Sarah is one hyper active person, she gives full definition to ADD. Brad seemed pretty cool, laid back. We drove around a little bit more, and ended up back at Tiffany’s. We watched movies and talked for pretty much the rest of the day. On the way to drop off Brad and Sarah, we popped over to Taco Bell.

Taco Bell in Canada has a “fry supreme” or something named like that; essentially it’s their version of chili cheese fries – and I’m pissed. It’s only in Canada, not in the State. It was so amazing, why do we get just damn nachos that taste like cardboard?

Sunday morning I woke up around 7:30am. I grabbed my book and went to read in the family room. Her dad walked into the kitchen shortly after I had sat down (they’re main area was an open room, with the family room and kitchen). He noticed I was reading Aristotle’s Ethics. We talked about society and many things.  Like how advanced are we? We use system of sciences that were developed centuries ago and have only many small additions to them, nothing truly new has came about. How technology is advancing, but at the same time social structure decreases. We talked for a good three hours, part of which was outside as he and Natalie’s brother swam in the pool. I told him about how I planned to start a venue/teen center within the next few years; he was enthralled. I think he seemed more excited than me. It was awesome to hear someone say “that idea is amazing” or that I my rough ideas on how to get it rolling were in the right step.

Natalie eventually woke up. We watched Ice Age, then decided it was time to get some grub.  Went went down by the lake first, relaxed under the sun. The weather was so much better. There were two, I believe they were, F-16s that flew on the river and did some maneuvers. We had no idea what they were doing until we heard there was a big boat race in Detroit. Probably called in to kick it off. After that excitement we went to Pizza Hut. We got a pizza, well obviously. I decided to exercise my temporary right of being above the legal drinking age and ordered myself a Budweiser. There weren’t that many people in the restaraunt. There was a girls soccer team from Toronto, who were louder than hell. And a large family that was dressed like the Amish…but I’m certain they weren’t – especially since they were driving mini vans.

We went back to her house and watched Shrek, and Brother Bear in her room. We were both tired and ended up napping parts in between.

Soon Sarah and Brad called, so we went over to Brad’s. There I met another person named Keith. They were boiling hot dogs since they couldn’t figure out the grill. They tried to start the gas up, but soon realized Sarah turned the gas on ten minutes before them, so no one dared to through a match in to start it (the pilot was out, or something on it.) At about 6 we went back to her house for dinner.

Her dad made up some beef ribs and chicken cabobs. It was delicious. Early we weren’t sure if we really wanted to go back for food, but we were pretty happy with our choice to go back. We talked some more, I think her parents liked me.

We left again for Brad’s, and picked them up. We stopped by Tiffany’s to say hi, she was bored cleaning. After that we went to their friend Devin’s house. We sat and talked outside, then went in the basement for a bit. Everyone soon was tired and we headed home. When we got back to Natalie’s we found her dad on the couch playing on the Nintendo DS. He was trying his hardest to catch up to her brother in the game. He started at about 11pm and got to world 2 by 1am or so. We went up to her room, watched some movies for a bit. I went down stairs and went to bed; and he was still plugging away at that game.

Monday I woke up at 8am or so, her dad was already awake. Before I knew it, he had made me some breakfast. Three eggs over easy, some toast and a sliced apple. I was suprised as hell. So I ate and read the newspaper, we talked a bit. I woke up Natalie around 10, she asked me to, and so she got it. We went out for a bit, tried to have some final fun before we had to leave to get me to the train station.

Next thing I knew it was 3:30 and we needed to leave. We were a little delayed because her brother was being a bit poky, and then her dad misplaced the car keys. We dropped off her brother’s friend, and then her brother at a different friends. We then began the trip to Detroit. We figured traffic would be worse, but we caught it right before it got bad.

Getting back in the States was a little more uptight than entering Canada. The customs agent scrutinized the papers, asked where I was from and how long I was in Canada. He let us go. A bunch of cars before us were inspected, I thought they’d stop the car, rip apart my bag and search everything. We go to the station an hour and a half before my train left. We just talked and waited.

We said our good byes and I jumped on the train. I slept most of the train ride to Chicago. I woke up once hearing the lady behind me calling someone, and making the accusation that she caught them up in a lie. Sounds like a lovers quarrel. The train was running about 40 minutes late, which was fine with me. My Metra train didn’t depart until 12:35am.

I had a few smokes outside of the Ogilvie station, then waited by the tracks. While I was sitting against the wall a strange man came up. He asked to use my phone so he could call his ma’. I reluctantly went to hand him my phone, but he asked me to punch in the number for him, that was slightly reassuring. And he did exaclty that, he wanted to make sure she knew he was going to be right on time. He handed me a cigarette for the trouble.

I also realized I hate the midnight train. There’s plenty of late night trains- but to Waukegan. It’s most drull train ride of them all. I got back in Kenosha at 2:13am. Mark was waiting and he picked me up, handed me my keys, filled me in on what happened while I was gone.

I got home, and fell asleep on my nice warm bed.