So, Im in the security screening line and I am the next one to pass through the portal. My family has passed ahead of me. There I stand ready to enter when the thing goes off. Mr. TSA asks me to back up. I obey. He then begins to stare reverently upward at the screaming arch, not doing anything, just staring. He seems hypnotized as the crowd grows impatient. Finally the formation of a thought appears on his face as he raises a finger to press some button I cannot see. The screaming stops. He pushes it again and the screaming resumes. He returns to his reverent stare. Perhaps this is the procedure taught at the TSA temple. As the crowd grows more restless and now vocally so, he is unmoved. Then another inspiration. He whacks the thing as hard as he can. He achieves no result, but he seems empowered. He whacks it again. Then again. Each whack is followed by and interval of reverent upward gazing. Finally a colleague, aroused by the reverent gazing and whacking, hollers from behind, hit the other side! I assume that we have now witnessed the totality of technical training for these warriors against terror. He obeys and whacks the other side achieving exactly the same result. Again he stares reverently upward perhaps hoping that his faithful devotion will appease the screaming scanner god. It does not. Now other TSA faithful come sauntering to his aid. One using her car keys to poke at some unseen orifice while another tugs violently and fruitlessly at the electrical plug while yet another yells, dont pull the plug or well have to do a 96 restart! Meanwhile the crowd is searching their luggage for pitchforks and torches. Finally the screaming stops and the whole thing goes black. They have killed it. They are stunned, confused, directionless. Left with only one another upon whom they can fix their vacant gazes, they are stumped. Finally, one says, send them to another line. Seriously? Are you coming with us to bring us to the front of that line? I ask. No is the reply. Seriously? I am going to miss my flight because of you, says I. You should have gotten here earlier, is all they have to offer. So, here I sit. Ten hours to kill in the Honolulu International Airport awaiting my red-eye flight home. The rest of my family made it on the plane without me. So, one more Loco Moco and a couple more little paper umbrellas while I watch another Hawaiian sunset and think about my dad as the friendly white clouds pass by. Aloha Oe.
Posted on: Thu, 05 Jun 2014 02:39:24 +0000
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