friendly skies

The news is exploding with horror stories about innocent airline passengers being submitted to incredibly invasive searches in exchange for the apparently suspicious act of attempting to board an aircraft. Women have been forced to remove their prosthetic breast, men humiliated over a prosthetic testicle, and one retired gentleman forced to remove his colostomy bag in a manner more befitting an autopsy than a security screening, all at the hands of the TSA.

I had my own experience with "enhanced security", at the hands of the Canadians back in August. I had done quite a bit of travel over the summer, thirteen flights in July and August. The last trip of the season took me to Vancouver. It was returning to the US that I found myself in the "enhanced security" line, and even though I have NEVER set off a metal detector in my life nor had any more serious encounter with the law than a parking ticket, I was given the opportunity to prove I was not a terrorist.

So while my laptop was being checked for bomb residue, I was given the choice of an invasive pat down or am electronic strip search. Here I digress. I've got a great cock, and everyone who sees it loves it. Thick, veiny shaft, pouting head, a gentle curve that drives em wild. Jumps to attention at a moment's notice. And I'm not ashamed to show it off. So I'm sure that the pervert who spends all day looking at peoples scanned junk LOVED it. They all do. And I have no doubt that he took a picture of it as a keepsake, because we all know that that line about no images able to be stored or printed is total bullshit. But just to prove no hard feelings, if he wants to send me the print, I'll autograph it for him. And maybe include a color print in the return envelope. Because it's not about my junk, which is primo, but rather about the total violation of my fourth amendment rights without ANY cause or justification whatsoever.

And then it gets worse. In the line next to me is a family of four- two blond, blue eyes parents probably about 30 years old and their two children, a boy of perhaps three years old and a little girl of four, plus all of the ephemera that comes with children of that age. As I am being processed, the male agents are checking the children's toys for bomb residue, then they glove up and proceed to pat down the kids themselves. The agents are both middle aged hefty men. And I am certain that I am watching child abuse. I glance over at the parents and they seem as horrified as I am. And it occurred to me, that if the safety of our society is truly dependent on white gloved thugs feeling up little girls, then we don't deserve to survive.

Ah, but our safety is worth it, blah blah blah, you blather. Yes, I would be more forgiving if it were in fact the only solution, or necessary or even successful, but it's all theater designed to give us the illusion of safety, and there's nothing about feeling up little girls or taking pictures of grandma's boobs that will make us one iota safer. Michael Chertoff is trying to tell you that it's the only answer, but he's a paid consultant for the scanner's maker, so his "expert" testimony is somewhat tainted. Experts agree the scanner is far from foolproof, so it will not make us magically safe. But it will condition us to give up our fourth amendment rights. Right now, the airport is Abu Ghraib without the dogs. And unless we scream, and scream at the top of our lungs, the fourth amendment will be irretrievably lost.

Want air safety? Call El Al. Since 1946, there have been zero terrorist incidents on their flights. And what accounts for their amazing record? They ask questions. Seemingly innocent question, but then they observe the answers. And based on this, they decide who is likely to be a risk and deserve further scrutiny. No shoes removed, no pictures of your cock, no one feeling up your grandmother.

They have air safety, we have theater. Currently our options are electronic strip search, enhanced pat downs, or not flying. It is not random that in July and August I was on thirteen commercial flights, and since my experience I have been on zero.

I have no further plans for flying under this climate of terror.

sunday tour: casual concours

My favorite show. The Great Autos Casual Concours, now in its second year in Palm Springs. Over 160 cars arranged on lush green grass under perfect Desert skies. A marvelous day indeed. Lots of great forties classics, a sea of fabulous fifties and swingin sixties, and of course seventies madness. Three alumni who previously shared my garage. And bestof all, the efforts benefitted the Desert Aids Project and other local LGBT charities. Fun for all! Enjoy!
























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