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Special Report

Air Travel: Truce With Irrationality

When you travel from London to Boston by air, as I did recently -- during which ordeal I was forced to dump my precious, unopened bottle of wine in a trash bin, and engaged in a childish confrontation in midflight with a middle-aged woman flying with a brood of unruly kids -- you expect to find relief at your destination and a chance to begin to recover from one of the least enjoyable experiences progress has imposed on humanity.

Not a chance in hell -- the customs regime at Logan has other plans for you. In the name of "homeland security," the well-fed customs agents ensure that the humiliation and discomfort you've endured the last seven hours last a little bit longer. You stand aside, hands clutching your travel papers, as you watch the contrived drama of your bags being ransacked by bulky, uniformed men and women in gloves looking for things you know very well they'll never find.

This ritual can take forever, depending on what the customs agents read on your face as you leave the luggage carousel. The process would be comical it weren't so painful. To cope, travelers must adopt a certain posture suited to their personality. If you're a wimp, you pretend to enjoy the show -- you put on fake smiles and answer all those inane questions from these overworked peons, for whom the cost of your plane ticket amounts to more than their monthly salary, hoping to hasten along the pointless process.

For the rest of us, we create our own show: I try to imagine how the agents would look if they lived in a country without cars and fast-food restaurants; I rearrange the women's hair, adorn them with ear rings or remove them, scrape their makeup, trim their hips. While the agents search through my dirty underwear, my mind is elsewhere creating its own fantasies and keeping my focus off all those useless souvenirs I bought for other people at exorbitant prices on another continent.

After going through customs in Boston several times, I've begun to take the agents' treatment as a personal affront. How could you not? In my most recent encounter, every piece of paper and mail in my bags was examined. Mysterious notes in my electronic travel record were perused and added to. While other travelers seemed to breeze through customs, I was kept waiting for an eternity. No question seemed out of bounds. In what's supposed to be a free society, shouldn't certain inquiries about a person's travels be illegal? Has air travel come to mean relinquishing one's privacy?

Having rummaged through my bags and found nothing illegal, the exhausted woman had one last prurient inquiry to get out of her system. Before releasing the bags to me -- with the mess inside left to my companion and me to put in order -- she affected a friendly tone, picked up a souvenir given to me as a gift by my mother, and asked, "What's this?" In no mood to chat, I said, "It's a decorative gourd," and set about to repack my bags.

I'm not an anarchist. I have never participated in street political protests. I don't give money to radical groups. I'm not affiliated with any political party. I'm as ordinary an air traveler as you would expect to find in the economy cabin of an intercontinental flight. I'm the last person you would expect to find on a government's travel-watch list. But some of the questions and comments from the Boston customs agents have made me wonder whether my name is on any such list. This scrutiny has also now made me more curious about what's in my travel dossier.

Maybe I shouldn't bother to ask to see a copy. Some members of my family think my troubles might have something to do with things as mundane as my attitude (unable to take abuse lying down); the way I look (tall, dark-skinned and bearded); the way I sound (a pedantic inclination to speak in long, complete, grammatically correct English sentences); and the region I frequently visit abroad (the Horn of Africa). They suggest that my confrontational nature may spark in law enforcers a gratuitous urge to punish me. 

Anybody with enough courage to fly these days must reach a truce with such irrationality. Common sense is on an indefinite leave. Almost every traveler is a suspect, and every traveler is tense. Men and women with the misfortune of being burdened with the responsibility of providing security find themselves enforcing rules that even they themselves find absurd. My wine posed no threat to anyone, and yet there it went, into a garbage can at Heathrow.

With those long lines, the silly rules about what not to carry on board an airplane and the claustrophobia in jets with leg room that makes the traveler pine for the ample space in a metro bus, no wonder everyone is on edge. In ordinary times, the British man in the seat next to mine watching DVDs of "Yes, Prime Minister" might have thought twice before stepping on the arm rest of my seat to pass over me on his way to the lavatory. And the woman with her unruly brood might have been more considerate and forgiven my minor indiscretion with my blanket, which had fallen onto the aisle, becoming a safety hazard. But these are not ordinary times.

Letter to the Editor

Henry Gekonde is a writer living in New Hampshire.

Comments

KyMouse| 4.30.09 @ 7:35AM

Good observations, Mr. Gekonde. I know just what you mean. The funny thing is, however, that I don't mind the grilling before traveling on El Al, even though their security agents interview passengers at some length. Maybe it's because I love Israel and support their defensive strategies against constant threats. But I love my own country, of course, and know that we are also under constant threat. So what's the difference in my attitude? I'll have to think that through. Maybe part of it is admiration for El Al's professionalism. I'm not sure. Thanks for the food for thought.

Melvin| 4.30.09 @ 7:41AM

"Consideration & Civility" are long ago forgotten terms that made living amongst each other manageable at best.
"In your face motherhood," now rules that day that makes the most mundane chores of going to the grocery store just as deplorable as getting ones baggage checked at the airport.
Pushy, domineering, and downright inconsiderate parents especially the mothers come across with sneers of disdain of, "I love my children don't you?" "No lady, I don't love your children in fact I loath your little disease carrying parasites, that walk upright and make everyones lives absolutely miserable while standing in line at the bank."
I'm tired of the screaming, yelling, squealing, spitting, running, jumping, and the tantrums that the masses must endure with these parents spawn.
And the one thing that I'm am most annoyed about, I'm tired of the smug and arrogant look that these parents give other travelers as these parents get called up first to the airport travel gate with a stroller the size of a Ford Expedition.
And the one singular thought that is going through each and everyone at the gate, "Please God, Allah, Krishna, or any other deity that one may worship, don't have those little demons sitting next to me."

Pingback| 4.30.09 @ 7:51AM

Air Travel: Truce With Irrationality links to this page. Here’s an excerpt:

…with her unruly brood might have been more considerate and forgiven my minor indiscretion with my blanket, which had fallen onto the aisle, becoming a safety hazard. But these are not ordinary times. Read More Share and Enjoy: Related posts: Obama’s Tea-Leaf Readers It’s been a week since several hundred thousand Americans... What Not to Say About Why You Don’t Owe Income Tax On the…

Trackback| 4.30.09 @ 8:00AM

Air Travel: Truce With Irrationality, on childish, links to this page. Here’s an excerpt:

Bookmarked your post over at Blog Bookmarker.com!

Appleby| 4.30.09 @ 9:51AM

Amen! I am a motorsport journalist and nine times a year I go through this with a backpack full of computer gear, and three times a year I go through with a canvas bag containing a tent, a sleeping bag and mat, large plastic bags, etc. I am not young, and I am generally wearing the uniform I will wear at the track (well, not the fire suit, but you get the idea) and a pair of Rockports that set off the alarm because they have those little metal grommets on them for the shoe laces to go through, and a baseball cap. This always upsets the rummagers-in-chief. On the way home they are upset by the numerous promotional DVDs and CDs of all sizes and the press kits, the fact that I now have four Jump Drives ranging from the size of my thumbnail to the size of a small cigar, and all the different kinds of wires I carry in my backpack (phone cord, ethernet cord, extension cord) -- not to mention the set of European plugs and the two different cords for my computer -- one North American, one European. One year I was cross examined because I had fifteen rolls of film but no camera. (The camera had taken a swan dive off a high balcony rail and was run over by a guy in a golf cart pulling a trailer loaded with tires.) "Don't you have a digital camera?" asked the suspicious cross-examiner. I explained that I hire a professional photographer to do my working photos and my own photos are strictly for my own amusement. The whole thing is tedious to the max, and I go through it about 9 times a year. You would think somebody would have put me on a list by now: "old lady in racing gear, carrying tent and computer bag. Mostly harmless."

As for the Marching Mommies and their brood of undisciplined brats, I am ready for someone to start a Child Free Airline. I was on my way to a conference once, wearing my best suit and working on some paperwork, when a Mommy handed her fractious two-year-old a bottle of soapy water and a bubble pipe. I immediately took them away from him and explained to her that I would not have time to have my suit cleaned before my conference, and that soapy water stains. She whined, "How am I gonna keep him quiet, then?" I leaned over, made eye contact with Junior, and said in my mother's voice, "Hush." Junior shut up like a trap and never said a mumblin' word for the rest of the trip.

On the other hand, I have travelled by Greyhound Bus with Military Moms who have two or three small children, and you wouldn't even know they were there at all. So it can be done.

PolishKnight| 4.30.09 @ 10:27AM

Ahhh, a topic close to my heart: international air travel!

Henry, don't take it personally. I travel often enough to be on good terms with customs and passport control in many countries and most of the employees are polite and just doing their jobs. Granted, sometimes what they do is silly but that's how they are trained. Sadly, their trainers and managers are often, from what I heard from an ex-screener friend, sitting up in their offices surfing the web at a 6 figure salary. The Dept. of Homeland security transformed these jobs into cushy government payback deals and now they are political appointments.

What's sad is that many people allow the whole thing to get to them. I act the same everytime I fly: I try to relax, be polite, and give myself lots of time for delays and problems. One time my bag arrived and I said "whoo hoo" and a customs officer pulled me aside and started searching my bags. Who knows why she picked me? I had nothing to hide, had a pleasant conversation with her while she lightly went through my bags, and moved on. Since then, I have not been stopped once.

On the other hand, it's sad to see many travelers walking the walk of the damned and terrified to smile or talk among themselves for fear of attracting attention reminiscent of a police state.

One thing I am glad to change though: before I got married in Y2K, I had a beard. My wife complained and I shaved it off and now every passport control officer gives me a strange look (usually with a smile and a comment I look great without it.) It's going to be nice to get a new photo with my new passport!

S in Severn| 4.30.09 @ 11:06AM

Polish Knight, I'm a retired USAF Senior NCO, at the time TSA was set up, I was neck deep in getting two young teens through high school, and to provide needed stability to our house as my husband (a federal agent) was seldom home. So I missed joining TSA at the start, when so many of those that I had worked with, other military retirees, did. Now, VERY FEW OF THEM are working for TSA. Most have either gone to other agencies, or are up the food-chain and no longer at airports on the "rubber meets the road" part.

Many of the present employees are NOT fully qualified to work in ANY secure environment, those that are serious and dedicated burn out or quit. There is so much corruption, one said it reminded them of going through Panama's (Canal Zone) Tocumen Airport during the 1980s.

Tim| 4.30.09 @ 11:47AM

"those inane questions from these overworked peons, for whom the cost of your plane ticket amounts to more than their monthly salary, hoping to hasten along the pointless process. "

Listen Lord Moneybags, maybe a superior life form such as yourself should just walk on the water all the way to London.

Big Leo| 4.30.09 @ 11:59AM

Back in the dear golden days of Communism, I had numerous experiences of entering the USSR, East Germany, and Cuba, I always contrasted the experience of traveling in America and Western Europe with the totalitarian nonsense in the Communist states. Now, we do pretty much the same things. Last year, they dropped my Hasselblad while waving it around and asking if it was a real camera. Not any more it wasn't. They seem to give me a harder time because I must radiate resentment of what I used to have to travel to Commieland to experience.

John| 4.30.09 @ 12:31PM

I agree, air travel has become intolerable. Its not just TSA; the airlines, are just as abusive if not worse, with the exception of Southwest. If you fly coach on a plane with a first class section, the abuse is worse, as if they are punishing you for not paying the first class fare.

Easy solution. Don't fly, and laugh each time another airline goes into bankruptcy.

GENE Hauber| 4.30.09 @ 3:53PM

let me ask.....just a simple question.

IF YOU HAVE A WEAPON , CAN YOU LEGALLY KILL AN OFFENSIVE SEAT PARTNER???????

JUST KIDDING.

Pingback| 4.30.09 @ 8:20PM

The American Spectator : Air Travel: Truce With Irrationality | LadyRequires.Com links to this page. Here’s an excerpt:

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Pingback| 4.30.09 @ 9:16PM

Topics about Wines » Air Travel: Truce With Irrationality links to this page. Here’s an excerpt:

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BPT| 5.1.09 @ 6:07AM

I know the feeling. Next time I fly I’m going to wear a turban and speak Arabic. That way customs will be nice to me.

Michele San Pietro| 5.2.09 @ 3:16PM

I totally agree with Mr. Gekonde and fully understand him. I have been a real friend of the United States forever, and I have been defending the United States every sigle day under the worst threats and insults from garbage who simply want its destruction. I hope to go back to the United States at last in the near future: what should I think if U.S. customs officers were rude to me? I think there should be lists of loyal Americans and people loyal to the United States who should be allowed to cross the customs automatically without any check.

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