Concealer as the New Terror Threat
I happened to catch some of Bush's speech Monday while waiting for my flight to take off. My response to President Bush: I'll take a chance a terrorist with a bomb is seated next to me. Stop the insane airport security measures.
I'm no statistician but I'll bet I had a one thousand time greater chance of dying in a car crash driving back from Aspen Sunday than I did of being on a flight yesterday with a terrorist onboard poised to commit mayhem.
How absurd has flying become? Let me describe my morning yesterday. I drove to the airport and headed to the departure level where Denver's nice police officers let you leave your car running at the curb while you get out and hand your bag to the skycap for checking. Normally, particularly with Frontier, there's no waiting. Monday, the line was so long there were ropes corralling people. Why? Because everyone is checking luggage now that you can't bring anything from toothpaste to shampoo on board. There was no way could I leave my car unattended at curbside so long, not to mention I'd miss my flight, so I headed to valet parking.
At valet parking, I dump the car, lug my two bags inside but here too the lines were insanely long and if I waited, I would have missed my flight. So I figure I'll check one bag at the gate. I maneuver the bags from ticketing in the main terminal to security at Concourse A. There's now 30 minutes to departure. The security agent calls for a search of my bag. The offender: my makeup - in particular, my concealer which is neither liquid nor the squirt kind. Then he pulls out my lip gloss and says it's a no-no. Then my stick foundation. Then my moisturizer. At first I think I'll let them dump it all, just to make the plane. But as I watch the pile of no-no items grow, the Creme de le Mer, the Jurlique, the Mac concealer and foundation and more, I realize it will cost about $300 to replace it all and I'm not likely to find it in downtown Omaha. Nor am I going to go to court without it. So I resign myself to taking a later flight and shlep the bags back to to the terminal to check the one with my dangerous makeup. The very contrite guard at security gave me a red badge so when I returned I could go to the front of the line. You could tell they thought taking my concealer and makeup was as stupid as I did.
I get back to the check-in counter and it's now 15 minutes till my flight leaves. The Frontier agent thinks I can still make the flight. She checks my bag and sends me back to the concourse and security. I do the whole thing again. waving my red badge. Then I go running to gate 31 as specified on my boarding pass. But when I get to gate 31, the sign says San Diego and I hear a last call boarding announcement for Omaha at gate 39, which of course is at the other end of the concourse. I run to the other end of the concourse, wheeling my other carry-on with my case files and computer, and finally reach gate 39, practically wheezing by this time. The Frontier rep at the gate takes one look at me and said, "It will be all right." I said, "No it won't."…
The rest is at http://talkleft.com/new_archives/01
My blood is on a slow boil.