If I Was Rich and Bored

Airport Security -- New Rules

As I was standing in line for security screening at a flight, I began to think about how ridiculous so much of airport security is.

I decided that if I were rich and bored it would be fun to buy thousands of nail clippers and stuff them into my suitcase. I suppose it would look like solid metal when the machine scanned it, and so a physical inspection would be required.

I imagine the TSA agents unzipping the suitcase and gazing upon countless nail clippers. At first they would be puzzled. Then, slowly, comprehension would dawn. I would wait one heartbeat after that moment of awareness, then yell to the passengers behind me, “Operation nail clippers is a no go. Repeat, no go. Run for it!”

And then as I rush off into the distance, I would cackle back over my shoulder, “This isn’t over. We’ll be back. Next time we’re bringing bottles of water! Your planes will never survive against our schemes! Bwahahahah!”

And then I would use my rich person magic to make the charges against me go away.

That’s what I would do if I was rich and bored. As things stand, I was bored but not rich, so I left my nail clippers at home and disposed of my deadly beverage and all you get is this meditation upon the security farce we endure when we fly.

Candy Is Edible Joy

November 1, 2006: Treats!Candy is a good thing. Candy is joy given caloric expression. Candy is, to twist an old saying, proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy.

I do not think my wife believes this in her heart. She is a mom, and there is a lot of pressure on moms to believe that candy is bad. In the land of moms, candy is a controlled substance. One, incidentally, for which medical prescriptions are not forthcoming.

And so as we were going to bed on Halloween I told her, “There’s something important we need to establish before we go to sleep tonight. The presence of leftover candy in our house is not a problem to be solved, it is a joy to be celebrated. We don’t have to give it away, throw it away, or find some creative use for it. Eating it will be sufficient.”

I felt like a Mormon knocking on Richard Dawkins’ door, but sometimes a dad has to step up. Edible joy is a rare thing and worth defending.