Look, as an American, and a New York City resident from 1997 – 2002, I understand the effects of terrorism. We are all wary now. We are more careful. When there is a stray tote bag on the street or in the hallway of a large building, we call the police. We are not terrorism virgins. We understand when “this is not a test of the Emergency Broadcast System.”
“Shit just got real,” as Martin Lawrence said so eloquently in Bad Boys II.
I’ve hated this extra responsibility. In my opinion, if someone is going to kill a whole lot of people in a non-secure area, there is very little anyone can do about it. Sometimes, like at Fort Hood, nothing can even be done in a secure area. So how can I worry? What can I do besides “duck and cover?”
This paranoia is the thing, you see. I get body searched every time I fly. I understand why. I’m a young, single man who flies alone. Terrorist bombers generally fly solo, or at the very least, buy their tickets separately. What I cannot abide, however, is being forced to take off my shoes at security.
I am loathe to admit that I am just as angry at Richard Reid, the “Shoe Bomber,” as I am at any of the 9/11 terrorists. This is a guy who smuggled an explosive device in his shoes and tried to detonate it on a transatlantic flight. He couldn’t. He was faulty. The device was faulty. The plan was faulty.
Since December 2001, extra security has not been enough anymore. Now I have to untie my shoes, take them off, send them through a metal detector, walk barefoot through a magnetometer, put my shoes back on, and tie them in the space of a minute. Invariably, I hold up the line because I’m not a quick shoelace tier. It’s embarrassing and aggravating, and it’s all Richard Reid’s fault. I can’t help it. I hate him.
Now, we have a bigger problem. Today, a Nigerian national by the name of Abdul Farouk Abdulmutallab smuggled chemicals in his pants and set his legs on fire while his transatlantic flight landed at Detroit-Metro. Besides being the single-most interesting event to occur in Detroit since the Tigers made the World Series in 2006, this is the single-worst terrorist attack in the United States since Richard Reid. Why? I’ll tell you why.
Now, I’m going to have to take off my fucking pants. It’s bad enough with the shoes. Now the pants? My lord. I have to fly in April. I’ve been dreading it anyway, and now I’ll have to take off my pants and show the other passengers my Old Navy patterned boxer shorts.
Look, this isn’t a blog entry as much as it is a plea to Congressman Peter King of Long Island, the ranking Republican on the House Homeland Security Sub-Committee.
Mr. King, please… please… PLEASE… don’t make me take off my pants at the airport. I can’t bear it. Look, the guy didn’t even pull it off. He failed. He has burns on his legs. Put him in a hole and forget all about him. I will personally staff the prison at Guantanamo Bay to keep him there. I’ll find a way. Just, please don’t overreact.
If there is one thing that is certain, it’s this: changing the way we travel has been very humiliating.
Remember Mr. King, there are many ways to keep us safe. New advances in technology are popping up all the time. I am just as wary of terrorism as anyone and I can appreciate the need for safety… but if I have to take off my pants at the airport, then the terrorists have truly won.
If not for my sake, please do it for the other passengers. Some of my boxers have holes in them.
5 comments:
Thank you for making me laugh first thing in the morning. Eventually we'll all have to fly NAKED.
"We don't have to take our, clothes off. To go through a security checkpoint, oh no. We can dance and party, all night. But there's no complimentary cherry wine, ah-ha." -Jermaine Stewart, From the 2009 "Flying with terrorists in a recession" Remix
As long as you don't wear a snuggy, I can take the holy boxers. Yes, *holy* instead of holey!
a snuggy? I'd look like a Franciscan Monk in a snuggy.
Snarky *and* snugalicious? Swoon!!
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