Velcrometer
Throwing stuff at the internet to see what sticks
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M. Giant's Velcrometer Throwing stuff at the internet to see what sticks |
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Monday, September 02, 2002 I’m back again. First of all, I want to thank Gael, Rob, Kim, and Monty for having so much time for us while we were in their city. I’m also grateful to all of you who sent in tips on what to do and see in Seattle (including Jennifer, whom we also got to meet). I can’t say we did and saw them all, but we made a pretty decent dent. And we learned early on that when Lonely Planet and readers disagree, it’s best to go with the readers. Rest assured that on our next vacation, we’re going to be leaning on you folks again. Y’all rock On Wednesday morning, our itinerary required us to roll out of bed at Oh God in the morning and get to the airport under cover of pre-dawn darkness. I phrased that as if it were possible to sneak so much as an illicit memory into an airport these days, but that’s obviously not the case. For the last year, the metal detectors have been dialed up so high that you can’t get through them if you have a Led Zeppelin song in your head. Used to be I could walk through the beeping archway in a full suit of armor without slowing down, and the guards would wave me past as I clanked into the terminal. It’s a different story now. Now I have to jettison my keys, wallet, pen, and whatever change I happen to be carrying into the little tray. But even that doesn’t do it. Then I tried zipping my belt and glasses into a coat pocket before I sent it on the conveyor. I was still hot. Apparently the grommets that hold my shoelaces would enable me to take over a flight cabin. So the shoes went too. After a number of occasions when I set off the metal detectors despite the fact that my person was entirely denuded of anything possessing a crystalline molecular structure, I started cutting meat out of my diet weeks before every trip in an attempt to reduce the level of iron in my blood. It must have been extra frustrating for Trash to have to haul all of our luggage and other items past the guard station while I was getting a thorough wanding. I certainly wasn’t a threat to anyone that state: penniless, barefoot, legally blind, anemic, and almost fully occupied with keeping my pants from falling down. So finally I just gave up and resigned myself to a total body-cavity search every time I got on a plane. The price of freedom being vigilance, and all that. Which was why we were both a little surprised on Wednesday morning when my specs, keys, and change elicited nary a peep from the metal detector. I guess it hadn’t had its coffee yet. posted by M. Giant 7:33 PM 0 comments 0 Comments:
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