Wanderings Without a Cell Phone

Canada: it is a large country north of the USA -- really!

Gadabout is battling withdrawal from his cell phone. I didn’t lose the phone, nor did I fail to plan cell details before trekking off on my most recent peregrination into the northern environs of Parry Sound, Ontario. No, I changed my service plan with Verizon well in advance, but after crossing the pitiful border onto Canadian soil the phone just F%$#ing quit working. The Network, My Network, the dude on TV and all of his pals dumped my ass at the border crossing and have not caught up yet. Cell phones suck. Verizon sucks.

Sure, I was searched at the boarder too. It seems that vacationing balding middle aged men poise a serious threat to national security. “Anything to declare?” asks the punk kid with a silly looking uniform. “No,” I reply. “Fine, pull over there,” as he points a pale finger at the inspection station, “and talk to them.” The little shit even simled.

This is Canada, the fifty-first State, our pals to the north. No cell phones, eh? No balding retired naval officers allowed, eh? But you’ll take my cash, right? Eh. Well at least the women are hot, and the beer is cold. Eh? I vote to make Canada a state of the US of A -- stuff might start working up here.