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Monday, September 9, 2013

Fun with Security

Shockingly, as Jen and I were going through security at Logan Airport on the way to visit Daddy, I did NOT get the usual pat down/feel up and bag search. This may have been a first. In fact, they even told me that I didn’t have to take off my shoes anymore!

What was up? Could it have been because I had my camera out the whole time. Mind you, I wasn’t looking to record examples of authority gone off the rails -- nope, the light in that section of the airport was absolutely breathtaking that morning. Blinding too.

One uniformed woman asked why I was taking pics and, of course, I went into overdrive with explanations. Why? Hey, I'm a chatty broad. I’ve got to start with the ‘I’m deaf but if you talk slow mebbe I can read your lips’ biz. From there I moved on to explaining how the quality of light was very Hudson River School -- you know, it's way reminiscent of paintings by Alfred Bierstadt and blah, blah, blah. I think she’d been waving me on about 2 seconds into my enthusiastic explanation.

Reminds me of one time when the border cops on the California/Mexico border stopped me. Not content to just chat with my blond, blue eyed friend, they wanted me to tell them what I was doing in that part of the world. I, OF COURSE, had to tell them all about visiting my pals in San Diego and have you been to the botanical gardens there and aren’t those awesome and now we’re heading to the Grand Canyon and, canya believe I’m 45 and never been before? and blah, blah, blah.

My friend explained, as we pulled away, that the dude wasn’t interested in my vacation highlights. No?! He just wanted to hear if I had a Mexican accent. If so, we’d have been in for a world of inquisitioning.

Huh. But he seemed so nice and friendly...

Anyway, all of the TSA folk were just tremendous. At the first check in point the guy asked me something or other that I didn't catch. Jen told him I’m deaf before I could go into my Busby Berkely without the rhinestones, chiffon and scads of white baby grands shtick. The guy smiled warmly and then started pantomiming -- he wanted me to remove my sunglasses and show my ID and boarding pass. I allowed ‘sure man but now, (nudge, nudge), I’m blind AND deaf -- it’s fuckin’ bright in here (giant grins and how ya doin’s). Dude seemed to be entertained and waived me on.

Jen said he didn’t have any smiles and laughs for her. ‘the fuck? Did I wear him out? Use up his morning smile allotment?

At the metal detecting arch I was on my own -- Jen was still with, now, Unsmiling Man. To the new team, I signed and said the deaf bit -- asked where should I go and what to do, what to do now (imagine this, if you will, in ASL. It’s a lovely dramatic presentation, thenkyew very much). Not only did they nicely and patiently show me what to do -- when and where to proceed, they took my hand and helped me up the wee ramp (I was a bit wobbly that morning).

We cleared the security hurdles and went off in search of breakfast and sadly elusive Mimosas.

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