While some of these stories I share are one small step away from an angry rant, this 2014 event could be grade A material for any stand up comedian. An enjoyable 'Fail' story to start the new year. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did - after the fact.

Springfield here I come - or not.

I am a creature of habit. For over 20 years I have attend the Mid-Ohio show. Every November I cross the border into the US driving the same vehicle, at the same time, at the same border crossing, and at the same booth. I do not believe it should be unreasonable to expect some recognition of an annual pilgrimage to the same destination but each year it seems to be a challenge. One crossing about 18 years ago, we were interrogated at length at the booth and were nearly refused entry. We were so distraught with the officer that I was mere seconds away from voluntarily turning around and returning home. Just one more comment from the agent would have been too much to endure. What was our crime against the USA ? What made us so undesirable as visitors that we deserved being treated this way? Nothing more sinister than we did not have any hard copy proof of a hotel reservation in the city we were going to. Never mind November is not prime tourist season and that Springfield has a high number of hotels. 'No reservations = no entry, but I'll let you pass this time'. Were his next and final words.

I understand and appreciate the job these people have to do. But make no mistake, this person should never have had that job.

Because of him, my wife will no longer travel to the US. That equates to thousands of dollars she doesn't spend in Springfield and other US stores. She still spends it though, just not in the USA.

Since then I have upped my accommodation to that of staying with friends. There have not been any similar problems or delays since this upgrade, plus what I save on the cost of the hotel means more fun money for the show.

2014 was one of the most memorable crossings ever. EVER . The road trip starts in the early morning hours. Five hours later I arrive at the border at a quarter to nine. There are two lanes ahead of me. The lane I have always taken had 5 vehicles in it, the one beside it had 9. I'm thinking hey, short line, I just got lucky. (For the rest of my life, I will never again take the shortest line. There is a reason nobody wants to be in it). By the time I made it to the booth, 27 vehicles had passed through on the other line. (I had lots of time to do an accurate count.)

Finally, my turn. The few usual questions, anything to declare? No. Open the door so she can see in the van. The minivan is completely empty, no back seats, no stow and go compartments under the floor, nothing but a single milk crate with a few insulators and hardware for the free table plus a similar sized empty shipping box that I was taking - also for the free table, in case someone flying in to the show needed a good box to ship their newly acquired prize home in. Everything was in plain sight, nothing to poke or dig through. My passport was current, drivers license and insurance both valid. I have no criminal record and my last traffic ticket was in 1972...... plus I was staying with a friend. I foresaw no delay or problems.

Just because I couldn`t see trouble, doesn`t mean it wasn`t coming.

She left her booth and looked at the stuff in the milk crate and opened the empty box. Went back to the booth and told me to go park in the inspection area, leave the keys in the van and then go inside.

For part of the first hour that I was inside, I sat in the waiting area and watched as two agents searched the van. Then I was invited to the counter to talk to the border agent. I do not hear so well, and it is even harder when there is background noise. At the counter, on my right is a German couple - he is loud and she is louder. There are frequent moments when they seem to be competing against each other. On my left is a twenties something female squealing chatterbox who talks making every sentence one word. These were beside me at the counter for over an hour. My agent is a low voiced young girl who barely spoke above a whisper. I try and block out the noise but can't. I put a hand up and cup one ear - stick a finger in the other. Does not help. I lean over the counter towards her - instinctively she leans back in her chair and the big guy behind her with a gun takes a step forward. I'm beginning to think there may be a problem, but I have no idea what. Can't fix what I don't know. Several times I say that I couldn't hear her, please speak up. And she would- for the next 3 or 4 words then trails off back to a loud whisper. I say there is too much noise can we go to a private room; asked twice if not three times. A request that was not even acknowledged. A reasonable assumption is that everything not an answer to a question, gets ignored. After all, this was not a discussion as much as an inquisition. For the next two hours, I struggle to hear her and give answers to what I think she is asking. Some times I don't get it right and I'm here to tell you all, that's a seriously bad thing ! It is incredibly difficult to take it back, walk-it-back, or backtrack on something you have said in error to these people.

I say that I am going to an Insulator show and sale, and I am taking the insulators down for the free table, they have no value because some are common, a few are chipped or cracked. I take them for the kids - beginning collectors.

She says" So you're taking broken glass down and giving it to kids? How old are these children? In that second her demeanor changed, and not in a good way.

I may be a bit slow some days, but I was right quick on this. I realized I was standing precariously close to the edge of a pretty slippery slope. A situation that had the potential of handcuffs and latex gloves. An overnighter with a 300 pound gorilla called Bubba was becoming closer to reality every time I opened my mouth.

The box with insulators held no interest at all. The empty box appeared to be of great interest. I couldn't understand it: seemed a pretty simple concept to me.

Eventually the big guy in the flak vest with the gun had had enough, or was getting hungry. He's been standing there for three hours; he stepped forward and repeated to me the questions being asked by the girl. Took like 1.75 minutes from then to clear things up. Him I could easily hear. ( Two hours sooner would have been much appreciated)

It was now past lunch time, some 3+ hours after getting to the border, that I was allowed to cross, empty box and broken glass intact. She was doing her job and I wish her well. She had spent 1/2 her shift on just me. I'm grateful I'm not the one that had to fill in her shift report. She was doing the job she was paid for and doing it with a concience, I thought, and you have to respect her for that.

Over a year passes before I put all the pieces together.

The empty box.

Plain and simple thing. There was one box with insulators in it. I declared no value on any items I was carrying, yet I had this previously used shipping box that had obviously had had something in it but now it was empty. All they wanted was to find the valuable item that belonged in the box, that I was smuggling into the country to sell. ( I wish)

That was it. The stupid empty stupid box. [id=412521469]

I can see it all clearly now but it certainly was a mystery to me then.

This is my all time favourite insulator story, partly because it follows the rules and went the way things should go. No harm no foul, so to speak. People just being people wanting to get through the day.. Another story I quite enjoy telling is somewhat similar, took place two years later. It is also about people simply doing their job and doing it right. In it, I screwed up but at least the cops showed restraint and didn't shoot me. [id=469284733;dumpster do's and don'ts]

Negotiating with people who are carrying guns always makes life more interesting.

Neither crossing qualifies as a Hunts and Fails event. On both occasions I did make the show, just a little later than I had planned. Each crossing was an adventure that, generally speaking, I'm happy to have experienced. The story with the girl is one that I quite enjoy telling. The coffee shop version is much, much longer and generous use of body language adds much comic relief. The story with that other SOB - he never should of had a job dealing with the public. And yes, I still have his badge number. [id=555672374;next episode]