Come Fly with Me

Come Fly with Me

You might have read in a previous blog something about me being on the “No Fly List”.  You might have thought I was using poetic license in a blog.   I am sorry that was not the case.  Apparently this Irishman was Public Enemy #...well, they never actually gave me a number.  I guess you can just call me Osama McLadin, the Irish terrorist…or maybe that’s just the new falafel burger at Mickey D’s.

The Nation was only a few years removed from 9/11…and we still did not know how to deal with it.  At the time, Homeland Security devised a delightfully colorful chart that would do Crayola proud.  This was a Garanimal type chart to match color to your level of fear…Honey, it’s, Red today…should I wear my ‘world might come to an end” loafers?

It all started innocently enough.  In April of 2004, I was convinced by my Wife to Be to finally leave North America and hop across the pond.  England would be our destination.  We arrived at the airport early...and we would need every minute.  I was tagged to go through a “special” screening.  While not looking like a 9/11 terrorist, I do however look very Irish.  I was heading to England…for the first time and with a new passport…I felt some profiling might be going on.  Security was polite but unprepared.  There was more sitting than searching.  After an hour passed, Deputy Droopy Dog’s more lethargic littermate approached us.  He opened our luggage and went through it methodically.  I could almost hear him count…Aaa one pair of pants, Aaa two pair of pants…and so on.  Finally he wrapped up his search and we were on our way.   After our travels, I chalked it up to a random event…and didn’t give it much thought (especially with what happened on the flight home – a blog for another day).

Our next trip was a short flight to Pittsburgh in September.  In the months that had passed, security had increased, but so did the ineptitude.  There was still no rhyme or reason.  My conclusions drawn from a list of forbidden carry on items that included hockey sticks.  One can only amass the list creator was Luther from the movie “The Warriors”.  As we approached the check in counter, we were attended by a diminutive diva.   “Ladies first” she proclaimed…and checked Christina in…in a fashion and monotony of an assembly line vocation.  Her boredom was soon to be broken.  After she typed in my name her eyes boing’ed like Roger Rabbit.  The computer screen illuminated red as if Homer Simpson was applying for a mortgage.  Oh, she was shakin’, but not snapping her fingers.  Her quivering was uncontrollable.  She peered up at me and barely choked out “Just a second, Sir”.  She dialed out on separate red phone…I was half expecting Batman himself to show up.  I could see this phone was a new device having never been used before…til now.  Of course I started to put things together.  At this point, I decided to fan the flames and sternly state: “Is there a problem?”  I swear she pooped.  Finally a gentleman arrived.  I was disheartened it was not the Caped Crusader.  He was a bald, burly man…more equipped emotionally…and physically… to deal with the situation.  He informed me I was on the “No Fly List”.  Seems my moniker managed to match those of known nefarious.  After checking further on the computer, he allowed me to proceed to the gate since…well, I am not a terrorist.  But either way… I was tagged, and tagged I stayed.

My airport adventures would continue.  It wasn’t until a few years later that this “No Fly List” would be scrapped.  Seems another popular pseudonym… Edward Moore Kennedy …popped up on the list.  A gentleman with that name was dragged out of the line and subsequently searched…and boy was Senator TED Kennedy pissed.

Homeland Security eventually came up with new ways to make us feel “safe”.  The “No Fly List” and the red phones gave way to a revamped TSA and removing loafers.  All of which had left me feeling a little Blue…

And according to their color chart, that meant I had nothing to worry about.