On flying the friendly skies.

I'm a little hesitant to post a rant so soon after Booze's message about Japan.  I've been to Sendai several years ago on a visit to Japan and this whole situation has me still feeling a little shellshocked.  It's incredibly heartbreaking to hear about the number of people still missing from the resulting tsunami.  I hope their families can eventually find some closure in this matter whether they be found alive or not.  Can we all observe a moment of silence before I continue with this post?

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Okay so I've just returned from a visit to France, or as Rel-Bar put it, the "Old World".  That just sounds so cool doesn't it?  Like I just visited some place right out of a Dungeons & Dragons game set.  And no, I'm not going to clown on Dungeons & Dragons.  GrumpyCoyote is "cool" no matter what geeky shit he's into, and that's final!

Anyway, this post is about the TSA, or Transportation Security Administration for those of you who aren't lucky enough to live in the United States to experience their special brand of "customer service".  I've flown many times after 9/11 and am quite used to the heavy flight restrictions we are to endure because of terrorist threats.  The TSA was created by the Department of Homeland Security to ensure our safety in a government regulated fashion.  I wouldn't call it a necessary evil because I get it, we're living in shitty, scary times.  People try weird stuff like lighting their shoes or underwear on fire, it's messed up, and definitely not cool.  We absolutely need this agency.  What we don't need, is their crappy attitude. 

Everytime I pass through a security checkpoint in an American airport, I make it a point to smile and say hello to the TSA person that reviews your boarding pass and personal identification.  They usually return the friendliness with a stern look of disapproval and bark at you if you're walking too fast or too slow, or if you headed down the wrong lane.  Sorry, it was confusing because they arranged the retractable nylon barriers in some kind of strange labyrinth that is designed to lead you to certain death (or a full body cavity search).  And we're stuck complying with their rude ushering and demands because nobody wants to rock the boat and appear terrorist-like right?  We are just happy sheep doing our best to follow directions in order to make it to the other side of security so that we can enjoy a $15 sandwich and a Dean Koontz novel from the terminal bookstore.

Okay in their defense, they deal with thousands of anxious and annoyed travelers on a daily basis.  It's enough to wear anybody out.  That's when you start to look for new job.  Judging by the ads i see on daytime TV, you can become a vet tech, car mechanic, medical billing specialist, or personal masseuse in less than 2 years and you don't even need your GED.  A pretty sweet deal for these disgruntled TSA jagoffs.

Oh and another thing, you know that Backscatter X-ray (aka Whole Body Imager, aka tit/nutsack/brain scanner) machine they spent millions of dollars on?  Well it appears that it doesn't save anybody any time or effort.  After they took an "adult" photograph of my genitals and then reviewed it carefully on a monitor like I was a grade school science project, I was then to suffer through a pat-down, and then a machine was used to sample the palms of my hands for traces of who knows what; gunpowder, toxic waste, nacho cheese residue, etc.  So in the end, instead of me just walking through a good ol' fashioned metal detector, this machine required 3 separate TSA personnel, a gigawatt of electricity, and everybody's precious time while they sorted things out.  I may be wrong, but I thought a fancy expensive machine like this was supposed to simplify the process.  Hmmm, maybe it's just a government conspiracy to catalog all nutsacks and funbags in some sort of kinky searchable database.  That makes perfect sense now that I think of it.

Also, did I forget to mention I approached the security checkpoint dressed as the artist formerly known as Cat Stevens and holding a lit molotov cocktail in one hand and an AK-47 in the other?  Maybe that didn't help. Hmmmm...