My occasions for continental flights within the United States. Most of my travels in America is by ground or sea. The ferry from the Manhattan terminal carries passengers to Staten Island. The Harlem and Hudson trains get me up to Duchess county and the LIRR plodders out to the Hamptons. The Fung Wah bus from Chinatown provides transportation to Boston. The railroad runs to Cape Ann and Maine from North Station. Norwood and Needham are reached by the steel rails. No police check bags. No TSA agents examine your person in fear of discovering an explosive vest.

Every day millions of Americans take to the air. Each year over 800 million travelers travel between the cities and towns of the USA. Since 9/11 nearly 9,000,000,000 airline passengers have been subjected to increasingly strict search procedures by vigilant TSA agents at the security gauntlets of the country’s airports.

The routine is the same everywhere. Travelers wait in endless lines before the X-Ray machines and metal detectors. Bottles of water are disposed in the trash. Upon reaching the gleaming steel tables a passenger is expected to load their carry-on bag into a plastic tray. Computers are scanned separately by the X-Ray technician. All metal is emptied from pockets. Keys, watches, cellphones et al. Any deviation earns the attention of the security crew. They are dying to find something, for after the billions of searches not a single terrorist has been caught with any kind of weapons. Only Americans with toenail cutters and guns stuck in their luggage. The NRA has remained mute on

In those ten years only three incidents have threatened the safety of air travel.

In 2002 a gunman attacked the El Al ticket counter at LAX. 2 DOA and 4 wounded.

In 2006 terrorist graffiti was scrawled in an airliner cargo area at the Will Rogers World Airport in Oklahoma City. The message was not released to the public.

Also in 2006 two cars breached the security at JFK and O’Hare on the same day. The first was an elderly man who had lost his way and the second was a tourist taking the wrong turn on his way to drop off his rented car.

Despite the lack of arrests the TSA argues that the security measures act as a deterrent against potential terrorists.

“The goal of aviation security is to prevent harm to aircraft, passengers, and crew, as well as support national security and counter-terrorism policy.”

I was relating this information to a young traveling companion on the way back from Palm Beach this week. We had been working a luxury goods show at the convention center. The two of us were standing in a line. Racial profiling is not permitted by the staff, however I shot a quick glance over the faces of my fellow passengers. Most were over 40, white, and out of shape. I assessed the threat level as colorless and said to Elle, a slender blonde from the Baltics, “This is a waste of time.”

“Aren’t you scared of terrorism?” Her accent was attractive to the men at the show. Elle made the supreme effort with her dresses and several guards had commented on her shoes. They had 4-inch heels.

“I’m more terrified of my wife.” Mem was on the other side of the Earth, but her female antennae could probably sense my speaking to another woman. I put my iBook G4 on the table.

“Is she dangerous?” Elle was married to an American running a Brooklyn nightclub. She slept alone and said sometimes ghosts came into her room.

“All women are dangerous if they love you.” I had lived in a haunted house in Ireland, so I believed Elle. “When they don’t love you, they could care less.”

The other travelers were taking off their clothing in a casual manner. Something was wrong about their surrender of rights and I said to Elle, “You know it would be much better if the airports put on some good music to strip before the X-ray machines. Something like this.”

I switched on the Lounge Lizards’ version of HARLEM NOCTURNE and slipped off my shoes in a sexily provocative manner. The belt slid out of my jeans as slow as a snake losing its skin and I peeled off my jacket like Gypsy Lee Rose flashing her nakedness through a screen of ostrich feathers.

“Sir, are you having a problem?” The TSA was not smiling at my antics. Hundreds of complaints had been received about their draconian behavior to innocent travelers. A strip search of a 4-year old and the patting down of voluptuous women.

“No, just going through the motions.” I bumped my hip and ground my pelvis. Elle laughed at the move. I was still agile in my late-50s.

“Sir, I will have to demand that you desist.” The TSA Agent was 30. His hair was shaved close to the skull. His laughter was reserved for after work.

“No worries, just want to make my flight.” I lifted my hands to show that i wasn’t going to provide any more distractions and I passed through the X-ray machine without a buzz. A female TSA agent waved me to the table where my things awaited me.

“Nice move.” She nodded to me.

“Thanks.” I appreciated her comment and after dressing proceeded to the gate. I was anonymous in the crowd. Just the way I like it, except for when searching for the TSA.