McMahon: I spy

Hey! I know. Let’s all meet at the airport and get naked.

Boy! Talk about angry villagers. Passenger unrest has
reached a new high with the increased intimacy that has
been added to pre-flight security.

When people originally had to walk thru the metal
detectors and have their bags scanned there was minor
complaining. Even when shoes eventually had to be removed
and liquids in carry-ons limited in size, folks were
irritated at the inconvenience but eventually became
resigned in the interests of safety. But now, the prying
eyes of the body scanners leave nothing to the imagination
as they graphically present all your attributes or short-
comings.

Of course, going thru them is voluntary. The alternative
is an advanced pat down that your parents would have
called heavy petting. And if you question the TSA
employee by saying, “May I go to my gate now or are you
just glad to see me?” you may wind up in a lengthy
interview with authorities.

The sound you hear is Al Quaida laughing. But the choice
is still yours. Give up a little modesty or give up your
life at 30,000 feet. Of course, you can always drive.

I’m Pat McMahon