Baby on Board

Well, I've survived another round with the TSA on my way home from Seattle, and for the third time there has been what appears to be a Festivus Miracle while waiting in line for our groping.

Just before I was to enter the backscatter X-ray scanner, the little Filipina tea bagger in front of me broke the machine.  Now in all fairness, I certainly don't know for sure that she was a tea bagger, or that she was Filipina, but making her out to be some liberal Pacific Islander doesn't help my narrative.

While standing in line waiting to be scanned and probed like a hillbilly abducted by aliens, the two of us exchanged friendly banter on how we deplore the invasive technology being employed today by the folks entrusted with our air safety. By the tone and content of her remarks, it seemed her displeasure was with the cost and taxes involved--hence my labeling her with the Mark of Tetley.  We both agreed the machines were expensive and worthless, and were slowing down the line.  Those going through the traditional metal detector were proceeding at a much faster pace.

But when it came her turn to enter the dragon--just go with me and my Asian metaphor--the Refusnik refused to refuse.  Instead of opting out, she blindly obliged and enter the scanner.  Well, it was either my evil super powers focusing my rage on Michael Chertoff, or her over powering perfume, but the machine broke as soon as she exited the stupid contraption.

So for the third time when presented with the Super Duper TSA Pornography Machine, I was spared the choice of either submitting or opting out.  It was truly a Festivus miracle.

So here we sit on another Delta flight, stuck in back with the hoi paloi like a frequent flyer refugee.  While the more corpulent asses sit in first, I am back here with crying children and a barking dog.  Oh the humanity.

But at least I was spared the insult of having my privates made public--not that I haven't enjoyed a little exhibitionism in the past, but at my age, it is not so much peepshow as it is medical examination.

So it is off to home, for a holiday visit, and then another trip, as the year winds down, and I continue the annual tradition of stuffing as many miles I can in before midnight on December 31.

So until Christmas Eve, when I find myself once again on the Homeland Security Casting Couch, I can sit back and relax.

At last as much as I can back here in steerage.