Terrorist in my pants?
I thought I’d share a gripe regarding something I endured this past weekend.
I grew up in and around aviation. One of my favorite pastimes was attending the local air shows when I was little. Now, that I’m a dad I take my kids to the annual show in my town. When I was little you could just walk right into an air show without anybody bothering you. Usually, attendance was free. But, since 9/11 security has just been escalating to ridiculous levels. Last year, as in the previous couple years, a big security guard wanted to look in my backpack for bombs and such. As he did that my son said, “Dad, why is he doing that?” I responded clearly so he could hear me, “This is called being a suspect, son.” The guard quickly halted his examination of my stuff and waved us through – like I had cracked the code or something and now his search was useless. Now, this year, it gets better. They have the security tables manned by youth – young kids in some sort of ROTC program, Navy. I asked the girls how old they were; 12 and 14. They not only looked in our bag but in every little compartment, like they were looking for a joint. They went through my daughter’s little Hello Kitty lunch pack. Then, they had me pull up my shirt and turn around so they could see I wasn’t packing anything in my waist band. Next year I expect either an enhanced pat down or the TSA xray machines. And, these little kids are too young to understand the context on this kind of thing. It just gives me the willies…
You know, I’m just not scarred of terrorism. Is that strange? This all feels like we are just being protected from ourselves, like there’s a terrorist in my pants (my wife might argue that point, sorry honey).
Thanks for enjoying my gripe.
I grew up in and around aviation. One of my favorite pastimes was attending the local air shows when I was little. Now, that I’m a dad I take my kids to the annual show in my town. When I was little you could just walk right into an air show without anybody bothering you. Usually, attendance was free. But, since 9/11 security has just been escalating to ridiculous levels. Last year, as in the previous couple years, a big security guard wanted to look in my backpack for bombs and such. As he did that my son said, “Dad, why is he doing that?” I responded clearly so he could hear me, “This is called being a suspect, son.” The guard quickly halted his examination of my stuff and waved us through – like I had cracked the code or something and now his search was useless. Now, this year, it gets better. They have the security tables manned by youth – young kids in some sort of ROTC program, Navy. I asked the girls how old they were; 12 and 14. They not only looked in our bag but in every little compartment, like they were looking for a joint. They went through my daughter’s little Hello Kitty lunch pack. Then, they had me pull up my shirt and turn around so they could see I wasn’t packing anything in my waist band. Next year I expect either an enhanced pat down or the TSA xray machines. And, these little kids are too young to understand the context on this kind of thing. It just gives me the willies…
You know, I’m just not scarred of terrorism. Is that strange? This all feels like we are just being protected from ourselves, like there’s a terrorist in my pants (my wife might argue that point, sorry honey).
Thanks for enjoying my gripe.
