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10-10-2003 - 10:13 a.m.

Seattle: Part1

Starbucks?

Microsoft?

Flannel?

Ichiro?

Nirvana?

What do these things have in common?

If you guessed Seattle, you would be right.

We had been to Seattle once before on the whirlwind �Justin is going Blind so lets go to Alaska� trip, but we weren�t there long enough to appreciate the town�s funky atmosphere.

And we still haven�t, but I promise that one day I will spend more than a few hours in this great city.

After a long day at sea conferencing and NOT playing shuffleboard, we were eager to get off the boat and see the sights. I like Nirvana, flannel and the Mariners. I even like Starbucks and I am using one of Mr Gate�s products even as I type.

We had heard something about having to go through US Immigration while in Seattle, but I figured it would just be a matter of flashing the passport to somebody on the pier. Ray has looked it up in the ship�s daily paper and our deck is scheduled at 9:45am. No big deal.

I was wrong.

Way before dawn on the day we arrived in Seattle, the loud speaker on the ship started emphatically announcing that �everyone had to be off the ship to clear immigration� �Yeah, whatever� I thought as I rolled over and went back to sleep. Sun isn�t up so it can�t be 9:45 yet.

We look out the porthole and we can see the Space Needle. I�m excited and begin getting showered and dressed, but leisurely. It�s not even 8am.

The announcements kept coming, and they are getting more urgent. We are to abandon ship and clear customs NOW!

There�s a knock on the cabin door. Guess what? Failing to clear customs is a federal violation. I�ve been inside of Leavenworth professionally and have no desire to make the Big House my permanent address.

We knock on the girl�s door. They aren�t even awake. The ladies refuse to abandon ship without a shower and makeup. Miss B sez �I ain�t a dirty fucking terrorist. Let them wait�.

Other passengers are fleeing the ship like it is sinking.

Finally we gather the family and passports together. Before us are 2,000 passengers and 850 crew members, spiraling down a multi-level ramp and then in a 500ft line, waiting like cattle for the slaughter to meet US Immigration. I take one look at the line and know that there is no way I can stand and wait for hours like I did trying to get into Canada. I�d rather take my chances in Leavenworth.

Ray fetches a wheelchair and takes me down the ramp with unwashed, unmadeup, uncaffeinated gurlz and Mikey following. Once we are at the head of the line, just like I figured, we flash our passports at the Immigration guy, walk through the metal detector, answer a few questions and we are back in the good Ol� USA.

No one has a good explanation for why the immigration process began 2 hrs early, but immigration officer is not happy either. He has to clear 2,850 people and it�s his day off.

Damn terrorists.

Then we find out that we can�t get back on the ship until all 2,850 people have been processed and that might take all morning.

So we do what anyone would do in Seattle. We go to Starbucks

This is the price of Freedom.

Turn in Tomorrow for Flying Fish, the Original Starbucks and JJ gets lost and Almost Misses the Boat.

See the Seattle Slideshow here, but if you can replace the soundtrack with Nirvana 'All Apologies' It s the Right thing to Do



Go Back
Previously in Justinland: Our Last Five Entries

Wagons Ho! - 4-23-2004

This Old Barn - 4-17-2004

Death and Taxes - 4-15-2004

MMQB:Leftover Peeps - 4-12-2004

The Alamo; The Movie not the Shrine - 4-10-2004


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