Nobody Grabbed My Junk at the Airport :(

It’s 21:54 and I’m struggling to stay awake.  I’m sitting at the Salt Lake airport waiting to board.  My flight doesn’t leave until 11:12. I’m not going to have any problem sleeping on the plane, that’s for sure.  As you know I’ve been getting up at 04:00 these days and today was no exception.  The only difference is I was up past bedtime last night so suffice it to say, this ole boy is tired!  I’ll hit the ground running in New York.  I’ve got a couple of meetings scheduled for in the morning.  It’s better that way.  I’m going to a play tomorrow night so it will be a late night.  I can sleep when I die.

I was kind of disappointed that I didn’t get frisked at security.  I was hoping to make some frustrated and closeted TSA agent’s night.  Of course I’d make no secret of how much I was enjoying it.  (naughty)  This is the first time I’ve flown since they installed the new “I can see your pecker” security machines.  But Salt Lake wasn’t using theirs tonight.  I had already decided that I was gong to ask for the pat-down just so I could see how thorough they really are.  I think the whole think is pretty frickin’ ridiculous.  If someone has a mind to take over a plane, I figure they could do it.  I’d hate to know what all these spy machines cost and how much of that cost is passed on to us.  What am I saying?  All of the costs are passed on to us.  Look, if someone wanted to take a pistol or explosives on a plane, all they’d have to do is request a pat-down and put whatever it is they’re trying to get on the plane inside a foam rubber pouch that feels like a cock-and-balls.  Easy.

My mom has a pacemaker/defibrillator and so she can’t be near magnets.  They use magnets to turn the device on and off so she is instructed strictly do not go through the magnetometer or be wanded.  So when she flies, she always gets the pat-down.  Now she says they are pretty thorough but when we went with her to Key West earlier this year, I watched what their version of “thorough” was.  When they got to the “special area” (I can’t believer I’m blogging about my mom’s “special area”), the woman used the back of her hand!  When I was in Iraq, we had to pat-down the Iraqis who were coming to do day labor on our base.  Now that was a thorough pat-down.  You pretty much have to run your hand up his ass crack and grab his junk.  Do you know what would happen to someone who touched my mom that way?  I’ll let your imagination figure it out.  And I know my mom is not the only American who wouldn’t put up with that.  When I travel with dress clothes, I carry my old Marine Corps suit bag.  Lord that thing has seen some miles!  It’s so threadbare at the top where the handle connects that you can see the inner workings.  As it turns out, the handle is connected to a two foot piece of aluminum that could so easily be sharpened into a make-shift sword it’s ridiculous.  So you can’t take a pocket knife on a plane, but a sword is just fine.  Going back to the possibility of what could be hid in a anatomically correct foam-rubber pouch, I’m watching the passengers deplane from my jet, just landed from Long Beach and this guy just walked by with a pair of those spiffy designer jeans and it looks like he’s got a half a cantaloupe behind his zipper!  You could hide a couple of grenades in a mound that big!  Now a little Mormon kid has gotten off and is aiming in on me with a little plastic toy laser gun.  What the heck?

One of our favorite things to do when I used to fly with my Marine buddies somewhere is to sit there and think of ways around the “security” set-up.  They take my boots and make me send them through the x-ray machine… but then they give them back!  One of our many mantras in the Corps is “one mind, any weapon.”  I could kill you with my boot!  Besides, what about unarmed combat?  You could send four or five well trained Krav Maga experts onto a plane and I guarantee they could have the whole crowd subdued in a matter of minutes.  It’s all so silly.

I’d love to follow the money trail with  all this.  Government contracts.  Fat executive salaries.  Political perks and kickbacks.  Welcome to our way of doing business.

Wow, now I’ve gotten myself all sketchy and they appear to be about to board us.  The pilot just staggered by and careened his way down the jet-way.  Was that bourbon I smelled?

Love to all if I don’t make it.  NYC here I come!


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