Tuesday, September 05, 2006
I can't believe...
...that Steve Irwin is dead. Although I never knew him personally, I feel a connection to the people I invite into my living room on a regular basis - whether these people are in fact in my living room, or whether they are just flickering images on my television set. Had it been possible, Steve was the kind of guy I would have wanted to befriend and I am saddened by his family's loss.
Friday, September 01, 2006
Yay school!
Last night I finished my first week of classes for the MPA program at George Mason University. This semester, I registered for three classes: Intro to Public/Nonprofit Administration, Organization Theory and Management Behavior, and Managing in the International Arena. However, later today I will be dropping Intro to Public/yadda yadda yadda from my schedule as I only want to take 2 classes per semester and not overwhelm my little brain.
I began classes on Monday night. To prepare, I drank a cup of French Roast from Caribou on my drive from DC to the Fairfax campus. BAD MOVE. I was jittery throughout all of Org Theory and nauseous through Intro Yadda Yadda. It didn’t help that I didn’t have any time to eat the sandwich I bought at Potbelly’s earlier, or that the second professor was so fidgety that he was giving me motion sickness. The highlight of my Monday night was the fact that my second professor of the evening was dorky funny AND had a four-inch rip down the seam of his pants so you could see his boxer shorts.
I am entertained by the little things in life, what can I say?
My third class was last night and it’s being taught by an adjunct. What that means in GMU terminology is that my professor has a day job. His just happens to be President of the Peace Corps Association – which is exactly why I registered for the class in the first place. As a Masters International student, I really want to take advantage of these kinds of classes where I will gain more insight into international development and global issues.
In between classes, I have already signed up for every email listserv I could find, am investigating professional associations to join, met with my program’s dedicated Career Services counselor, and scheduled some one-on-one time with a PIA professor. Oh, and I’ve also house-hunted with my realtor this week.
Needless to say, I’m a little pooped, but I’m excited to be back in school.
Some fun factoids from Ryan’s return to college:
- At grad school orientation, I met the Dean of my program – who promptly fell asleep next to a small group of us during the program held in the Arts Center;
- I spent about $100 between the car rental and parking to get my butt to orientation, only to return home with a GMU mug;
- The orientation speakers commented on the make-up of the incoming graduate students – 80% of us are supposed to be full-time workers, and over 60% are over the age of 30. That being said, I am one of the oldest members in each of my classes, and most of my classmates just graduated from undergrad so they don’t have jobs yet;
- It appears that none of the professors I’ve contacted thus far have any idea what the Masters International program is – apparently, I’m on my own on that score;
- Out of the three classes I attended this week, I met two other suckers… I mean, Masters International students;
- Managing in the International Arena is the smallest class I have taken since high school (the smallest class I ever took was AP Calculus, with only five of us taking class via satellite with a professor from Ohio State University or somewhere) – the class totals eight people, but only six showed up last night;
- The most thrilling news for me is that I was able to purchase four books for one of my classes and it only cost me $115. At Penn, it cost me $115 just to LOOK at the bookstore, let alone leave with some course books;
- I have barely scratched the surface of my homework, but I’m already exhausted.
Let the good times begin…
Thursday, August 31, 2006
Anthony's input
After the conversation that was launched by my last post regarding airport security, Anthony requested that I post this Newsweek editorial. As the good boyfriend he is, and as a security expert, he wanted me to re-publish an article that makes my readers consider the inadequacy of the security measures already in place in our airports today. So, without further ado, here is the Newsweek article:
Flying Blind
Airline security needs to be based on common sense, not policies that will turn citizens into inmates of their own countries
By Christopher Dickey
Newsweek
Updated: 10:44 a.m. ET Aug 29, 2006
Aug. 29, 2006 - Flying used to be about freedom. No matter where you intended to land, there was something magical about escaping to the heavens. Now, as we know, flying is more like going to prison, if not, indeed, to hell.
As it happens, I once spent a week interviewing inmates and staff at what was then the main “super-max” federal penitentiary in Marion, Illinois. It was the successor to Alcatraz, and the predecessor of the facility that opened in Florence, Colorado, in 1994. “Security” was its aim, its ethos, its excuse for everything. Life in Marion had so many grim limitations and restrictions that the worst of the worst criminals convicted in federal courts—spies, drug lords, racist murderers, gang leaders—actually would try to behave themselves in hopes they might someday get out of its peculiar purgatory, even though the greatest escape they could achieve was transfer to another federal pen.
The operative principle for prison security was that anything one inmate managed to make into a weapon would be taken away from everyone. Saran Wrap was a case in point. Sandwiches had come in it. But one of the inmates discovered a way to burn an aspirin tablet, generating enough heat to melt the wrap, harden it, and make a dagger, so no more cellophane on the sandwiches. Ditto bed springs. They could be cut, twisted and sharpened into weapons, so the beds were concrete slabs.
The cardboard backing on every legal pad at Marion was torn off because one prisoner managed to fashion it into a crude bomb filled with match heads, using bits of metal zipper as shrapnel. The most benign objects were, in the imagination of the inmates and the guards, potential deadly weapons. One by one, they were taken away until each convict’s life was made as barren as it could possibly be made.
"Big Brother is always watching," the warden at Marion told me. The basic goal was to keep prisoners safe from each other and alive: “pure security,” he called it. "Every day that goes by and no inmate or staff member is seriously hurt, we've accomplished our mission."
Doubtless those responsible for airline safety have a similarly fatalist, minimalist view, and not without cause. It’s been five years since September 11, 2001, when 19 men using box cutters on commercial flights changed the world forever. No one would ever want to see that again. But the draconian security measures taken after an alleged airline terror plot was revealed in Britain earlier this month have exposed the reductio ad absurdum of current thinking about what makes us safe, or not.
The last few days have seen a stunning series of exaggerated reactions to minor incidents. On Friday alone, half a dozen little security breaches or anonymous threats suddenly escalated into significant aircraft diversions or delays around the United States. Earlier last week, a United Airlines flight from London to Washington D.C. landed in Boston—accompanied by fighter jets—when a 59-year-old American woman named Catherine Mayo acted like a nut. She reportedly urinated outside the plane’s galley and allegedly mumbled something about Al Qaeda.
(Afterwards, it turned out Mayo has spent a lot of time traveling in Pakistan, ostensibly as a journalist. She wrote an article in 2003 for the English-language Daily Times there that blamed American psychiatrists for what she called the “manic depression” of the United States after 9/11. “This is a woman with very serious mental health issues,” Mayo’s public defender told the court in Boston during her initial hearing on Friday.)
And then there was Northwest Flight 042. When a dozen young Indian businessmen returning from a wedding boarded it in Amsterdam for the last leg of their flight home to Mumbai last week, they were in a decidedly rambunctious mood. (Although all were Muslim, it’s not clear how observant or abstemious they were.) They were trading seats, playing with their cell phones, allegedly refusing to turn them off, and some reportedly taunted the cabin crew by tossing the phones to each other.
American sky marshals on board got involved. About 10 minutes out from Amsterdam, the pilot wheeled around, escorted back to the ground by fighter jets (which seems to be standard operating procedure). The alleged troublemakers were hauled off, but Dutch officials then cleared them to fly home the next day.
The Indian press quickly declared the real “crime” of the businessmen was the color of their skin. "If brown equals terrorist, doesn't white equal racist?" suggested an editorial in the Hindustan Times. And knee-jerk prejudice might have played a role, but the essence of the problem lies in the fact that so much has come to seem sinister that overwhelmed security staff and paranoid passengers see threats everywhere they look: in a beard or a prayer, a cell phone or a soft drink.
By coincidence, a Newsweek reporter was on the previous leg of Northwest Flight 042, which went from Minneapolis to Amsterdam that same day. Barbie Nadeau was returning home to Rome from vacation in the States with her husband and two little boys, ages 6 and 4. In Minnesota, the security obsession was less with skin tones and Motorolas than with run-of-the-mill liquids. Parents of little kids were watched especially closely, it seemed, because the screeners suspected they might be smuggling boxes of juice on board.
As Nadeau points out in an e-mail, her family’s two carry-on bags had enough electronics in them to wire a missile: “a laptop, a portable DVD player, a sound-blaster adapter and headphones, two cell phones, four MP3 players with headphones, a BlackBerry, a brick of AA batteries and two hand-held video games.” The security woman paid them no attention. “She dug around the electronics, searching for juice. About three other moms nearby were going through the same harassment…”
Nadeau concedes that the screeners and airline staff were just doing their job, “but it struck me that the security was so focused on finding and confiscating any liquid item, they were actually not focusing on any other potentially suspicious things anyone might be carrying. Case in point: nail clippers. I didn't realize they were in my bag, but they got by in Minneapolis, only to be confiscated in Amsterdam.”
Ah, yes, nail clippers. I have searched in vain for the example of nail clippers being used to hijack an airplane—on the face of it a pretty ludicrous proposition—but I guess someone could imagine they might be. Just as Saran Wrap can become a dagger. Or the cardboard back of a legal pad can be made into a bomb with zipper shrapnel.
We are walking in our socks through security checks, you realize, not because anybody ever succeeded in blowing up a plane with explosive shoes, but because one man tried and failed. Moms are surreptitiously smuggling juice boxes for their kids because the alleged plotters in Britain reportedly wanted to mix up explosives on board planes using different liquid components. But recent reporting on that case suggests they may not have known what they were doing, or how to do it.
Should we be concerned and careful? Yes. And we shouldn’t think there are easy answers. The much-vaunted Israeli model for airline security works at one single airport, Tel Aviv’s Ben Gurion, and with one small airline overseas, El Al, using highly educated screeners, many of whom are performing their national military service. Can the U.S. use the same psychological profiling techniques at hundreds of airports with screeners paid a little over the minimum wage and, perhaps, a high school diploma? Doubtful. Is better physical screening the answer? Bernard E. Harcourt, a professor at the University of Chicago who has written extensively on these issues suggested in an International Herald Tribune op-ed last week that the best approach would be “to eliminate most carry-ons and emulate high-security prisons…”
In fact, security systems will continue evolving, as will terrorist efforts to get around them. But the policies that develop in that process have to be based on a cool, common sense assessment of the real threats, not sensationalism and cover-your-ass bureaucracy. The failed dreams of would-be terrorists cannot be the measure of the threat against us. To achieve “pure security,” in the end, Americans would have to become inmates of their own country.
Flying Blind
Airline security needs to be based on common sense, not policies that will turn citizens into inmates of their own countries
By Christopher Dickey
Newsweek
Updated: 10:44 a.m. ET Aug 29, 2006
Aug. 29, 2006 - Flying used to be about freedom. No matter where you intended to land, there was something magical about escaping to the heavens. Now, as we know, flying is more like going to prison, if not, indeed, to hell.
As it happens, I once spent a week interviewing inmates and staff at what was then the main “super-max” federal penitentiary in Marion, Illinois. It was the successor to Alcatraz, and the predecessor of the facility that opened in Florence, Colorado, in 1994. “Security” was its aim, its ethos, its excuse for everything. Life in Marion had so many grim limitations and restrictions that the worst of the worst criminals convicted in federal courts—spies, drug lords, racist murderers, gang leaders—actually would try to behave themselves in hopes they might someday get out of its peculiar purgatory, even though the greatest escape they could achieve was transfer to another federal pen.
The operative principle for prison security was that anything one inmate managed to make into a weapon would be taken away from everyone. Saran Wrap was a case in point. Sandwiches had come in it. But one of the inmates discovered a way to burn an aspirin tablet, generating enough heat to melt the wrap, harden it, and make a dagger, so no more cellophane on the sandwiches. Ditto bed springs. They could be cut, twisted and sharpened into weapons, so the beds were concrete slabs.
The cardboard backing on every legal pad at Marion was torn off because one prisoner managed to fashion it into a crude bomb filled with match heads, using bits of metal zipper as shrapnel. The most benign objects were, in the imagination of the inmates and the guards, potential deadly weapons. One by one, they were taken away until each convict’s life was made as barren as it could possibly be made.
"Big Brother is always watching," the warden at Marion told me. The basic goal was to keep prisoners safe from each other and alive: “pure security,” he called it. "Every day that goes by and no inmate or staff member is seriously hurt, we've accomplished our mission."
Doubtless those responsible for airline safety have a similarly fatalist, minimalist view, and not without cause. It’s been five years since September 11, 2001, when 19 men using box cutters on commercial flights changed the world forever. No one would ever want to see that again. But the draconian security measures taken after an alleged airline terror plot was revealed in Britain earlier this month have exposed the reductio ad absurdum of current thinking about what makes us safe, or not.
The last few days have seen a stunning series of exaggerated reactions to minor incidents. On Friday alone, half a dozen little security breaches or anonymous threats suddenly escalated into significant aircraft diversions or delays around the United States. Earlier last week, a United Airlines flight from London to Washington D.C. landed in Boston—accompanied by fighter jets—when a 59-year-old American woman named Catherine Mayo acted like a nut. She reportedly urinated outside the plane’s galley and allegedly mumbled something about Al Qaeda.
(Afterwards, it turned out Mayo has spent a lot of time traveling in Pakistan, ostensibly as a journalist. She wrote an article in 2003 for the English-language Daily Times there that blamed American psychiatrists for what she called the “manic depression” of the United States after 9/11. “This is a woman with very serious mental health issues,” Mayo’s public defender told the court in Boston during her initial hearing on Friday.)
And then there was Northwest Flight 042. When a dozen young Indian businessmen returning from a wedding boarded it in Amsterdam for the last leg of their flight home to Mumbai last week, they were in a decidedly rambunctious mood. (Although all were Muslim, it’s not clear how observant or abstemious they were.) They were trading seats, playing with their cell phones, allegedly refusing to turn them off, and some reportedly taunted the cabin crew by tossing the phones to each other.
American sky marshals on board got involved. About 10 minutes out from Amsterdam, the pilot wheeled around, escorted back to the ground by fighter jets (which seems to be standard operating procedure). The alleged troublemakers were hauled off, but Dutch officials then cleared them to fly home the next day.
The Indian press quickly declared the real “crime” of the businessmen was the color of their skin. "If brown equals terrorist, doesn't white equal racist?" suggested an editorial in the Hindustan Times. And knee-jerk prejudice might have played a role, but the essence of the problem lies in the fact that so much has come to seem sinister that overwhelmed security staff and paranoid passengers see threats everywhere they look: in a beard or a prayer, a cell phone or a soft drink.
By coincidence, a Newsweek reporter was on the previous leg of Northwest Flight 042, which went from Minneapolis to Amsterdam that same day. Barbie Nadeau was returning home to Rome from vacation in the States with her husband and two little boys, ages 6 and 4. In Minnesota, the security obsession was less with skin tones and Motorolas than with run-of-the-mill liquids. Parents of little kids were watched especially closely, it seemed, because the screeners suspected they might be smuggling boxes of juice on board.
As Nadeau points out in an e-mail, her family’s two carry-on bags had enough electronics in them to wire a missile: “a laptop, a portable DVD player, a sound-blaster adapter and headphones, two cell phones, four MP3 players with headphones, a BlackBerry, a brick of AA batteries and two hand-held video games.” The security woman paid them no attention. “She dug around the electronics, searching for juice. About three other moms nearby were going through the same harassment…”
Nadeau concedes that the screeners and airline staff were just doing their job, “but it struck me that the security was so focused on finding and confiscating any liquid item, they were actually not focusing on any other potentially suspicious things anyone might be carrying. Case in point: nail clippers. I didn't realize they were in my bag, but they got by in Minneapolis, only to be confiscated in Amsterdam.”
Ah, yes, nail clippers. I have searched in vain for the example of nail clippers being used to hijack an airplane—on the face of it a pretty ludicrous proposition—but I guess someone could imagine they might be. Just as Saran Wrap can become a dagger. Or the cardboard back of a legal pad can be made into a bomb with zipper shrapnel.
We are walking in our socks through security checks, you realize, not because anybody ever succeeded in blowing up a plane with explosive shoes, but because one man tried and failed. Moms are surreptitiously smuggling juice boxes for their kids because the alleged plotters in Britain reportedly wanted to mix up explosives on board planes using different liquid components. But recent reporting on that case suggests they may not have known what they were doing, or how to do it.
Should we be concerned and careful? Yes. And we shouldn’t think there are easy answers. The much-vaunted Israeli model for airline security works at one single airport, Tel Aviv’s Ben Gurion, and with one small airline overseas, El Al, using highly educated screeners, many of whom are performing their national military service. Can the U.S. use the same psychological profiling techniques at hundreds of airports with screeners paid a little over the minimum wage and, perhaps, a high school diploma? Doubtful. Is better physical screening the answer? Bernard E. Harcourt, a professor at the University of Chicago who has written extensively on these issues suggested in an International Herald Tribune op-ed last week that the best approach would be “to eliminate most carry-ons and emulate high-security prisons…”
In fact, security systems will continue evolving, as will terrorist efforts to get around them. But the policies that develop in that process have to be based on a cool, common sense assessment of the real threats, not sensationalism and cover-your-ass bureaucracy. The failed dreams of would-be terrorists cannot be the measure of the threat against us. To achieve “pure security,” in the end, Americans would have to become inmates of their own country.
For a good time, go here...
Seriously. There are some really smart people contributing essays to the American Enterprise Institute. In fact, I found this article on counterfeit news to be most illumnating. It makes you think about what kind of news gets reported and how accurate our media's reports actually are.
In a related thought, if you want to get some excellent reporting from out in the field, I suggest you review this site. The Pulitzer Center on Crisis Reporting is a relatively new organization that "funds independent international reporting." My friend Nathalie works here and they are making headway to turn journalism on its head, and return reporting to its truth-seeking roots.
In a related thought, if you want to get some excellent reporting from out in the field, I suggest you review this site. The Pulitzer Center on Crisis Reporting is a relatively new organization that "funds independent international reporting." My friend Nathalie works here and they are making headway to turn journalism on its head, and return reporting to its truth-seeking roots.
Wednesday, August 30, 2006
On order: a vacation from my vacation
As readers of this pitiful blog already know, earlier this month I was away on vacation. Some of you are probably still waiting for me to expound on my adventures while traveling, but I am honestly too pooped to party. The best I am going to be able to do at this point has already been done – I spent four evenings last week organizing the five or six hundred photos I took and posted them online. They are even replete with photo captions and history lessons. If for any reason I have failed (read: forgotten) to send the link to my photos to you and you desperately want to live vicariously through my vacation, please feel free to email me your complaints, concerns, and diatribes. I will do my best to make it up to you.
And if vacation exhaustion wasn’t enough to suffer through, Anthony and I were home for less than 24 hours when someone broke into our apartment building. We have long been lobbying our landlord for new doors and better security for the building, but to no avail. The would-be thief was ballsy enough to break into the building in the middle of the day and would have gotten away with a lot more had Anthony not been home. Or, rather, been returning home with groceries. He actually saw the would-be thief exit the building and exchange pleasantries.
Unfortunately for the girls who live in the first-floor apartment, there were virtually no signs of forced entry in the two outer doors of the building. It wasn’t until Anthony fully entered the building and saw the girls’ apartment door beaten in that he realized what had just happened. By then, 30 seconds or so had passed and the would-be thief had disappeared. Anthony ran around the block in search of the man, but it was already too late. Instead he called the police and our landlord.
In all likelihood, the police will never catch this guy – despite the excellent description from super-hunky Anthony. And the situation is also unlikely to motivate my landlord to update our doors or vamp up security measures. What a shame.
The good news is that nothing was stolen from the girls’ apartment. It appeared that Anthony came home just in time to interrupt the would-be thief, and he got away with nothing. The only outcome that could have topped that would have been if the would-be thief attempted to break into OUR apartment and our little Grace took a big chunk out of his ass.
And if vacation exhaustion wasn’t enough to suffer through, Anthony and I were home for less than 24 hours when someone broke into our apartment building. We have long been lobbying our landlord for new doors and better security for the building, but to no avail. The would-be thief was ballsy enough to break into the building in the middle of the day and would have gotten away with a lot more had Anthony not been home. Or, rather, been returning home with groceries. He actually saw the would-be thief exit the building and exchange pleasantries.
Unfortunately for the girls who live in the first-floor apartment, there were virtually no signs of forced entry in the two outer doors of the building. It wasn’t until Anthony fully entered the building and saw the girls’ apartment door beaten in that he realized what had just happened. By then, 30 seconds or so had passed and the would-be thief had disappeared. Anthony ran around the block in search of the man, but it was already too late. Instead he called the police and our landlord.
In all likelihood, the police will never catch this guy – despite the excellent description from super-hunky Anthony. And the situation is also unlikely to motivate my landlord to update our doors or vamp up security measures. What a shame.
The good news is that nothing was stolen from the girls’ apartment. It appeared that Anthony came home just in time to interrupt the would-be thief, and he got away with nothing. The only outcome that could have topped that would have been if the would-be thief attempted to break into OUR apartment and our little Grace took a big chunk out of his ass.
Monday, August 28, 2006
Where in the world is...?
Happy wedding people
Originally uploaded by Pookah.
A little over a week ago, I was celebrating the marriage of my close friend, Darwin, to Emma at the Carryduff Baptist Church in Belfast, N. Ireland. It was one of the busiest and most tiresome vacations I ever endured, but Darwin is well worth it.
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
Response to a response to a response…
Erin posted this missive last week:
Aug. 11th, 2006 12:43 pm Flying the not-so-friendly skies
O.K., whether or not the threat was legitimate yesterday, it raises good questions. Obviously there are many ways that people can manipulate substances onboard an aircraft. And personally, I enjoy waiting in line about as much as I enjoyed that dentist appointment the other day. So here's the Ed Schultz plan, which I totally support, along with a few of my own modifications:
How about no carry ons except for wallets and books? I know it sucks waiting for luggage, but it also sucks going through gate security. You can wait a little bit longer for your clothes and toiletries in order to make America safer.
Don't let any substances onboard, unless it's medically necessary. There can be a "long line" for people who need to have medicine checked. But the rest of us, seriously, do we really need lotion and makeup? Are we that vain? The one thing is airlines will have to serve more water. I think that change is marginal enough that we can all adjust. And I can even take my Xanax or Klonopin before I get in line.
I'm inclined to just say fuck all electronics too. I have trouble imagining a flight without a laptop, or cell phone to call when I land. However, since I'm going to have to check my luggage anyway now, I guess there is no rush to make that phone call. And I would check the laptop too in order make America safer. I don't have an Ipod, but I imagine we could live without those onboard too. Come on now.
The only things we REALLY need onboard, aside from medically necessary items, are books and newspapers. We all know how shitty the movies are on planes, and how otherwise lame the entertainment selection is. And books, to my knowledge, cannot be made into bombs.
So go through the damn security check with your book, and wallet in your pocket - and that's it! This will actually make our lives easier, and mitigate the potentially devastating effects this fiasco could have on the airline industry.
I'm bi-coastal, I can't afford not to fly. But I don't see why I should have to wait for 5 hours, and see my prices increase tenfold, when it would be far more efficient to just cut out carry on items altogether. America, we can make these small sacrifices to save the airlines and most importantly, save ourselves.
In the meantime, we need to worry about cargo security. How diligently do they examine the bags we check? I say get rid of the carry on lines, and use those resources to make sure nothing volatile is on the check on luggage. That's my 2 cents.
I'm open to debate, discussion, etc.
P.S. I also love Ed Schultz's "Naked Travel" idea.
Since I just did a crapload of traveling right after the thwarted terrorist attack in the UK, I have a few things to say about the heightened security at the airport.
For the record, last week I traveled from Newark to Belfast (in the UK, folks), Belfast to Prague, Prague to Belfast, and Belfast back to Newark. That will give you some idea of the security measures I endured.
While I travel light (for a 10-day vacation, I traveled with nothing but a 24” gym bag) so I can carry-on whatever I’ve packed, I really despise all those people who can’t live through a flight without all five pieces of their oversize luggage in the overhead bins. (These are usually the same people who can’t wait the two minutes it takes the plane to taxi to the gate after landing to turn on their cell phone and tell whoever will listen that they landed). Yet despite this, I strongly disagree with the “one book, wallet, and prescription medication” idea.
For example, I will tell you the story of the bodrhan. The bodrhan is a traditional Irish drum. On our last full day in Belfast, Anthony’s mom requested that we pick one up for her. Now, if your mom is sick with cancer and requests something as simple as that, what would you do? That’s right, we woke up at the buttcrack of dawn to drive into town and track down a music store. We paid about $100-$150 for this 18” bodrhan and got the padded carrying case to go with it. We were told that the 18” drum was more sonorous than the 16” so we couldn’t possibly gift an inferior product, could we?
Sunday arrived and we all jammed our souvenirs into our bags as best we could and went to the airport. My mom carried the bodrhan into the airport and got selected for a random security check before reaching the ticketing counter. The security officers there told her that she would be able to carry the instrument on the plane.
We checked in for our flight and all our bags disappeared up the conveyor belt. Since we arrived at the airport a little later than we should have (I believe we were the last ticketed passengers to check-in), we went immediately to the terminal and joined the security queue. The officers outside the security queue told us we would be able to bring the bodrhan on the plane. Then the security officers in the middle of the security queue told us we would be able to bring the bodrhan on the plane.
In fact, Anthony got as far as dropping the bodrhan off at the x-ray conveyor belt and was told by the security officers there that he could take it on the plane.
BUT. Yes, there is a “but” to this story. But the security supervisor honed in on the drum and immediately turned into a flaming witch. She said no. Anthony said he had already made it through security. She didn’t care. She dragged one of those wooden “if your bag fits in this container, you may carry it on the plane” boxes over to the x-ray machine and made Anthony attempt to shove the bodrhan in there. The box is 17 ½” at its widest point. Clearly, the drum wouldn’t fit. It could slide down into the space about halfway, but no further.
The supervisor actually dragged Anthony out of line and back to the ticketing desks. She wanted him to check the drum into oversize luggage. Mind you, all our bags had already been checked so there was nothing we could do to pad the drum further.
The oversize baggage agents almost wouldn’t let Anthony check the bag because he didn’t have a separate tag for the bodrhan (you know, the sticker they wrap around your luggage handle that has all your flight information on it). Anthony asked supervisor lady if she could extend some professional courtesy towards him because he’s in the foreign service. She asked him if he was trying to bribe her. Anthony played the good little diplomat and didn’t strangle the ever-lovin’ life out of her.
Really, it was a beautiful moment.
Eventually Anthony was able to check the bodrhan. And he had to go all the way back through security because the supervisor with a stick lodged in her colon wouldn’t express him back through the security queue.
Meanwhile, I’m at the gate and everyone has already boarded the plane. I’m looking back through the terminal for a glimpse of Anthony and the airline staff is announcing the final boarding call. The ghetto fabulous in me is about to take over and unleash its fury on the airline staff collecting tickets. In fact, I’m just starting my rant about what a piece of dung their airport staff is when Anthony flies around the corner into the terminal at a breakneck speed. He had magically made it through security and sprinted all the way through the airport while they were announcing the final boarding call. It was a (pardon the language here, folks) FUCKING MIRACLE.
Needless to say, we deplaned in Newark to a broken bodrhan. Despite all the “fragile” and “handle with care” stickers the airline staff stuck all over the bag, the luggage handlers chose to throw heavy baggage on it anyway. The really fabulous ending to this story is that the airline staff told us it was our fault for not packing the drum more carefully. We should have, and I quote, “known that the luggage handlers would throw baggage on the drum.” (I won’t even entertain you with the details of me throwing a hissy fit right there in the Newark airport, at the baggage claim desk behind baggage claim area 6.)
All this to say that there was no sane reason we should have been denied carrying on the bodrhan. Honestly, there is no way the airlines and security staff can ever 100% guarantee your safety on the plane. Today it’s hair gels and chapstick, but tomorrow it’s going to lead to a full body cavity search for explosives that are hidden the way drug mules hide cocaine and transport it over the border with Mexico. (As an aside, do you know that it is possible to make a shank out of a motherboard, disguise it as a false CD ROM drive of a laptop computer, and the computer will still turn on and function at the security desk? And laptops are still allowed on planes.) All we are doing is masking the real issue here and harassing good, well-meaning travelers.
Instead we should be focusing on other modes of security that aren’t as focused on harassing customers and mustering up fear. It takes all of five minutes to run a basic background check on an individual and determine their criminal past. The airlines currently have a system in place that differentiates passengers associated with a particular airline’s frequent flyer program and those who are not, thereby enabling the security officers to conduct random security checks on those who haven’t signed up with that program. Just modify that system to differentiate a passenger with a criminal record and then the security officers can perform heightened security measures on them.
I am sure this is not the only alternate solution, and I know that it isn’t fool-proof, but NO ONE SOLUTION IS FOOL-PROOF. Thinking that restricting carry-ons to just a book and a wallet will save us all is ridiculous. As a former police officer (kind of), I know that you can disguise many a weapon as a book, or even a cast, and potentially even something as innocuous as a wallet. There is no limit to the creativity of the criminal mind.
So let’s begin to think outside of the box here and stop harassing the many to save us from the few. The airport shouldn’t feel like you’ve entered a totalitarian regime.
More importantly, when I buy a souvenir at a dying woman’s request, I don’t want to be told that it is 1/2” too large to be admitted on the plane.
Aug. 11th, 2006 12:43 pm Flying the not-so-friendly skies
O.K., whether or not the threat was legitimate yesterday, it raises good questions. Obviously there are many ways that people can manipulate substances onboard an aircraft. And personally, I enjoy waiting in line about as much as I enjoyed that dentist appointment the other day. So here's the Ed Schultz plan, which I totally support, along with a few of my own modifications:
How about no carry ons except for wallets and books? I know it sucks waiting for luggage, but it also sucks going through gate security. You can wait a little bit longer for your clothes and toiletries in order to make America safer.
Don't let any substances onboard, unless it's medically necessary. There can be a "long line" for people who need to have medicine checked. But the rest of us, seriously, do we really need lotion and makeup? Are we that vain? The one thing is airlines will have to serve more water. I think that change is marginal enough that we can all adjust. And I can even take my Xanax or Klonopin before I get in line.
I'm inclined to just say fuck all electronics too. I have trouble imagining a flight without a laptop, or cell phone to call when I land. However, since I'm going to have to check my luggage anyway now, I guess there is no rush to make that phone call. And I would check the laptop too in order make America safer. I don't have an Ipod, but I imagine we could live without those onboard too. Come on now.
The only things we REALLY need onboard, aside from medically necessary items, are books and newspapers. We all know how shitty the movies are on planes, and how otherwise lame the entertainment selection is. And books, to my knowledge, cannot be made into bombs.
So go through the damn security check with your book, and wallet in your pocket - and that's it! This will actually make our lives easier, and mitigate the potentially devastating effects this fiasco could have on the airline industry.
I'm bi-coastal, I can't afford not to fly. But I don't see why I should have to wait for 5 hours, and see my prices increase tenfold, when it would be far more efficient to just cut out carry on items altogether. America, we can make these small sacrifices to save the airlines and most importantly, save ourselves.
In the meantime, we need to worry about cargo security. How diligently do they examine the bags we check? I say get rid of the carry on lines, and use those resources to make sure nothing volatile is on the check on luggage. That's my 2 cents.
I'm open to debate, discussion, etc.
P.S. I also love Ed Schultz's "Naked Travel" idea.
Since I just did a crapload of traveling right after the thwarted terrorist attack in the UK, I have a few things to say about the heightened security at the airport.
For the record, last week I traveled from Newark to Belfast (in the UK, folks), Belfast to Prague, Prague to Belfast, and Belfast back to Newark. That will give you some idea of the security measures I endured.
While I travel light (for a 10-day vacation, I traveled with nothing but a 24” gym bag) so I can carry-on whatever I’ve packed, I really despise all those people who can’t live through a flight without all five pieces of their oversize luggage in the overhead bins. (These are usually the same people who can’t wait the two minutes it takes the plane to taxi to the gate after landing to turn on their cell phone and tell whoever will listen that they landed). Yet despite this, I strongly disagree with the “one book, wallet, and prescription medication” idea.
For example, I will tell you the story of the bodrhan. The bodrhan is a traditional Irish drum. On our last full day in Belfast, Anthony’s mom requested that we pick one up for her. Now, if your mom is sick with cancer and requests something as simple as that, what would you do? That’s right, we woke up at the buttcrack of dawn to drive into town and track down a music store. We paid about $100-$150 for this 18” bodrhan and got the padded carrying case to go with it. We were told that the 18” drum was more sonorous than the 16” so we couldn’t possibly gift an inferior product, could we?
Sunday arrived and we all jammed our souvenirs into our bags as best we could and went to the airport. My mom carried the bodrhan into the airport and got selected for a random security check before reaching the ticketing counter. The security officers there told her that she would be able to carry the instrument on the plane.
We checked in for our flight and all our bags disappeared up the conveyor belt. Since we arrived at the airport a little later than we should have (I believe we were the last ticketed passengers to check-in), we went immediately to the terminal and joined the security queue. The officers outside the security queue told us we would be able to bring the bodrhan on the plane. Then the security officers in the middle of the security queue told us we would be able to bring the bodrhan on the plane.
In fact, Anthony got as far as dropping the bodrhan off at the x-ray conveyor belt and was told by the security officers there that he could take it on the plane.
BUT. Yes, there is a “but” to this story. But the security supervisor honed in on the drum and immediately turned into a flaming witch. She said no. Anthony said he had already made it through security. She didn’t care. She dragged one of those wooden “if your bag fits in this container, you may carry it on the plane” boxes over to the x-ray machine and made Anthony attempt to shove the bodrhan in there. The box is 17 ½” at its widest point. Clearly, the drum wouldn’t fit. It could slide down into the space about halfway, but no further.
The supervisor actually dragged Anthony out of line and back to the ticketing desks. She wanted him to check the drum into oversize luggage. Mind you, all our bags had already been checked so there was nothing we could do to pad the drum further.
The oversize baggage agents almost wouldn’t let Anthony check the bag because he didn’t have a separate tag for the bodrhan (you know, the sticker they wrap around your luggage handle that has all your flight information on it). Anthony asked supervisor lady if she could extend some professional courtesy towards him because he’s in the foreign service. She asked him if he was trying to bribe her. Anthony played the good little diplomat and didn’t strangle the ever-lovin’ life out of her.
Really, it was a beautiful moment.
Eventually Anthony was able to check the bodrhan. And he had to go all the way back through security because the supervisor with a stick lodged in her colon wouldn’t express him back through the security queue.
Meanwhile, I’m at the gate and everyone has already boarded the plane. I’m looking back through the terminal for a glimpse of Anthony and the airline staff is announcing the final boarding call. The ghetto fabulous in me is about to take over and unleash its fury on the airline staff collecting tickets. In fact, I’m just starting my rant about what a piece of dung their airport staff is when Anthony flies around the corner into the terminal at a breakneck speed. He had magically made it through security and sprinted all the way through the airport while they were announcing the final boarding call. It was a (pardon the language here, folks) FUCKING MIRACLE.
Needless to say, we deplaned in Newark to a broken bodrhan. Despite all the “fragile” and “handle with care” stickers the airline staff stuck all over the bag, the luggage handlers chose to throw heavy baggage on it anyway. The really fabulous ending to this story is that the airline staff told us it was our fault for not packing the drum more carefully. We should have, and I quote, “known that the luggage handlers would throw baggage on the drum.” (I won’t even entertain you with the details of me throwing a hissy fit right there in the Newark airport, at the baggage claim desk behind baggage claim area 6.)
All this to say that there was no sane reason we should have been denied carrying on the bodrhan. Honestly, there is no way the airlines and security staff can ever 100% guarantee your safety on the plane. Today it’s hair gels and chapstick, but tomorrow it’s going to lead to a full body cavity search for explosives that are hidden the way drug mules hide cocaine and transport it over the border with Mexico. (As an aside, do you know that it is possible to make a shank out of a motherboard, disguise it as a false CD ROM drive of a laptop computer, and the computer will still turn on and function at the security desk? And laptops are still allowed on planes.) All we are doing is masking the real issue here and harassing good, well-meaning travelers.
Instead we should be focusing on other modes of security that aren’t as focused on harassing customers and mustering up fear. It takes all of five minutes to run a basic background check on an individual and determine their criminal past. The airlines currently have a system in place that differentiates passengers associated with a particular airline’s frequent flyer program and those who are not, thereby enabling the security officers to conduct random security checks on those who haven’t signed up with that program. Just modify that system to differentiate a passenger with a criminal record and then the security officers can perform heightened security measures on them.
I am sure this is not the only alternate solution, and I know that it isn’t fool-proof, but NO ONE SOLUTION IS FOOL-PROOF. Thinking that restricting carry-ons to just a book and a wallet will save us all is ridiculous. As a former police officer (kind of), I know that you can disguise many a weapon as a book, or even a cast, and potentially even something as innocuous as a wallet. There is no limit to the creativity of the criminal mind.
So let’s begin to think outside of the box here and stop harassing the many to save us from the few. The airport shouldn’t feel like you’ve entered a totalitarian regime.
More importantly, when I buy a souvenir at a dying woman’s request, I don’t want to be told that it is 1/2” too large to be admitted on the plane.
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