I recently asked a friend, who travels frequently, about airport check-in security. He laughed and pulled out his Swiss Army knife. Not one of the tiny pin knives, but a knife with a four-inch blade.
“I forgot I had this in my pocket and went right through security.”
Isolated incident? Maybe. But does any reasonable person honestly believe we’re any safer on a plane than we were on September 10th? Do you think a terrorist group couldn’t smuggle a Stinger shoulder-fired missile into this country, park near a major U.S. airport, and knock down a plane? Remember, he’s not trying to get away.
So what’s all the TSA frenzy about. Show. A highly visible charade that accomplishes two things: 1. Persuade the American public their government is doing something to keep them safe. 2. Remind them they must be fearful and trust the government… to keep them safe.
I’ve packed my little bag and said goodbye to Barb. As soon as I can come up with Kerri Walsh’s phone number I’m going to call her and have her come get me. We’ll tell people I’m her father (okay, her grandfather). I’ll be the one crouched by the net, ready to towel off my Goddess of Beach Volleyball.

Barb has been in San Francisco all week, attending the National Health Lawyers Association meeting (I think). She’s been palling around with friends, including an old college chum, Julie. Julie is an old married lady with kids (and a nice husband, Jim), but I remember how hot she was at