| Today the security check-in tent has expanded to Ringling dimensions. Same rules: remove everything metallic and electrical. You cannot even think of the concept of steel or even the lesser, more malleable metals, or you will set off the detectors; they’re calibrated to beep if you’ve listened to Iron Maiden in the last 24 hours. All electronic devices must be turned on - but of course by the time you get to your place before the Inquisitors, everything has shut itself off. You hold up the line as you struggle with your STUPID CAMERA, which has a balky button; it will turn on only when pressed for a second, but if you press it too long it turns itself off immediately. Behind you, professional camerapersons fume: rube. I made it through without alarms - or so I thought. ”Got another Apple,” said the screener. I actually wondered if they were talking about the make of computer, and were all Mac fans themselves, but no. The secondary screener team plowed through my bags and came up with . . . an apple. ”Can’t bring these in,” said Officer Apple-taker. I asked why, instantly regretting it: Don’t cause a scene, idiot, just move along and accept the loss of an apple as one of those things that happens, unless you really want to wear the plastic bracelets and she said “it could be thrown.” Yes, it could be thrown; it could also be eaten. That was the plan, long ago. ”I had to take a peach and a pear too,” she added. Somehow that made it better. A simple, soft, gentle peach was now considered a weapon? Arrr. No roughage, no peace! No roughage, no peace! |