"Flyin' on a jet airlinah...."

TSA at DIA.

People who have traveled with me know well my propensity to set off  MAGNATRO the Super Metal and all Things Harmless detector.

Somehow I slip past my nemesis with nary a beep.... huh, who knew.

Somehow I always feel uncomfortable walking around in public in my socks.

Three TSA sleuths pore over the monitor which shows the screening of my three dig SLRs, the phone and battery chargers, my lap tops and gawdknowswhatelse.... enough gadgetry to allow James Bond to get past White House security.

They look like those monkeys who discover The Black Obelisk in 2001.

Young TSA approaches: "We need to check your camera bag for something."

"Sure". I imagine repacking the cables and all manner of other neatly packed compartments...but no......

Zip, rummage... he pulls out my Dop kit, saying "there's a couple of liquids your forgot to take out."

huh?

He retrieves my empty toothpaste tube and a plastic spray bottle with about a half teaspoon of decongestant which, of course, I flew in with in the first place.

"We have to remove these anyway, even if they're almost empty. We have to go on the amount listed on the container." He manages to look a tiny bit sheepish.

I pondered some snappy responses, but take a pass because my pre-9/11 sarcasm don't help anymore.

The best encouragement I got for remaining calm and silent came from a pre-TSA security manager: "Sir, you wanna to make this flight?"

So from the front lines of the war on terror.... please know that my CVS decongestant and my Crest have been wrestled to the ground and you are once again safe.

----------------

Land at DFW E terminal.... I took off from (and left my truck) @ B terminal.

II can't use the Sky Train to Terminal B because baggage claim is "outside" security.... brilliant, that.

Because of 3 oz fluid explosives I must find "Terminal Link"... the 100-year-old technology bus that will take me to my truck...............

......... But first, the "Link" must drive completely through D Terminal..... C Terminal... and all through B until I arrive at B-Gate 8 and my Nissan.

Six hundred and fifty miles from the Mile High to Big D in an hour and 45 minutes on a beautiful AirBus A319 with leather seats and actual leg room... plus a nifty individ, 5-inch TV, thankyouverymuch.

But it took about an hour ten to get off the AirBus, get my bags, take the bus trip and get outta DFW under my own power.

Another terrorist attack involving planes and/or shoes, and I'm stayin' home.