Labor (Day) of Love

It was a breezy, muggy day when I opted to leave Canada and walk to America.

Tourists swarmed the aptly named Clifton Hill Tourist area. Rightly so, cotton candy had been marked down from $3.75 to $2.00. A good deal any day of the week.

Being that it was Labor Day in America and Labour Day in Canada – the one ‘work’ holiday shared by both countries – the borders were crowded.

 
Canada being recognizing this day years ago as t time to campaign for improved wages and workplace conditions. America was more focused on the great successes achieved economically. Regardless of why both countries chose to celebrate this day, the focus is now more vacation than work related. For those vacationing, it is a great day. For those working, even at the cotton candy stand, it is miserable.

Just ask U.S. Border Patrol at one of the oldest Border Patrol Stations in America – Niagara Falls. The main reason this station was erected in 1924 was to prohibit the smuggling of alcohol and moonshine. Coincidence that I had Canadian Maple Whiskey in my bag? Maybe.

Like in France, I declared things, such as my ass. I’ve been packing France in my pants for the last four years – most expensive souvenir ever. One thing I can declare, with great clarity, is that U.S. Border Patrol agents are not a welcoming bunch. The first sign is the barbwire surrounding the station. Second sign is the door, “That must remain shut until I tell you to open it!” Third, is the first question they pose, “You an American?” Fourth, the strange questions they pose, “How did you get here?” “I walked.” “Why?” Considering this station only serves pedestrians, this question seems a bit unfair.

I realize Border Patrol’s jobs aren’t great and probably pay very little for what they deal with on a regular basis. Thus, their work is truly a labor of love. It’s just too bad they can’t focus more on the love than the labor. If it weren’t for love, we wouldn’t have labor…and delivery…and none of us would be here.