The TSA Goes T and A

LOUISVILLE KY.--I guess I look suspicious….or maybe my number was just up…


But the TSA decided it was time to search me---in a most personal way----as I tried to board a plane in Lubbock, Texas. I was on my way to a conference with a colleague. He walked on through the checkpoint. I was asked to step aside.

Oh, I was pleasant about the whole thing. No smart-aleck comments. I had read about the guy who warned the TSA not to “touch his junk.” I didn’t repeat the line since he got fined and not allowed to board his plane. I was polite….and cooperative…..but I have to tell you….I have a new understanding of why so many people are so upset with this turn of events.

Lubbock does not have a full body scanner, so I didn’t get an option. They looked me over and directed me into a glass room where everyone else could see the pat down. But oh, it was more than a perfunctory feel for weapons. They got personal…and I have to say….I didn’t like it.

This was the kind of grope that demands dinner first…and maybe a movie.

The TSA drone recited some kind of Miranda-type warning and asked me to stretch out my arms from my body. Then he felt everywhere.

Everywhere.

It was weird but I had a cold felling come over me. I mean….here I am….a 53-year-old college administrator from Snyder, Texas. I have three generations of Americans in my family tree. I don’t have an arrest record and I feel guilty if I put more food on my plate at a buffet than I can consume. And yet, here I was getting felt up by a 250 pound man with blue gloves for all to see.

Clearly, the terrorists have won.

The whole thin g took about five minutes and everyone else got to wonder if I was a Taliban sympathizer or a follower of Timothy McVeigh.

Prior to this episode I was not upset with the new practice. Go ahead, I thought….people that have nothing to hide should be fine with the measures to allow them to board a plane safely without worrying that someone’s crotch was going to explode somewhere over Little Rock. But now my tune has changed somewhat. I’ve walked a mile in the shoes of someone who has offered up his body for national security.

What happens when somebody is found on a plane to have a bomb inserted inside his body? I draw the line on the next evolution of these searches.

I’ll tell you the outcome for me if a full cavity search becomes the norm-----

Greyhound.