Saturday, January 18, 2003

 

Seeing-off a loved-one at the airport used to be a shared family experience--while never really enjoyable or entertaining, it at least was an "adventure" that a family took together--helping the traveller through security, searching together for the proper gate, helping guard carry-ons while waiting for the flight, sharing last tearful hugs just before the traveller passed off her ticket and watching the full walk down the jetway to the door of the plane, pressing against the glass viewing windows to try to catch a wave from the cabin window, or trying to determine your loved-one's seat from a glimpse of shoulder fabric, then finally, watching the plane taxi off and staying until you watched it leave the ground and bank out of sight.

San Diego has a beautiful airport, which very recently underwent a multi-million dollar expansion and facelift, with works of art, displayed shells and sealife, educational displays of historical artifacts, clean and attractive restrooms, and a multitude of shops and eateries to entice travellers and their families.

Until 9/11/2001...

Now, your "bon voyage" consists of lugging luggage (is THAT why we call it that?) to x-ray monstrocities, and sharing uncomfortable hugs and kisses with the nervous traveller BEFORE she has to stand in line with the other "suspects" to be stripped down to her socks by the "highly trained professionals" of the new "Traffic Security Agency". If you are lucky, you MIGHT get to catch a glimpse of your loved-one gathering up again her carry-ons, shoes, and jewelry before being told, "Move away and don't block the exit" by the pot-bellied pencilneck drone who is guarding the borders of the DMZ that is the security checkpoint.

Now, the traveller's family is treated (in the San Diego airport, at least) to one final glimpse of their departing member from a lower floor and through bullet-proof glass as she schleps her own carry-ons alone toward the gates...As your face aches from supressed tears, all that is left is to walk empty-handed back to your car. You will finish your 40-mile drive home before her plane even approaches the gate...

I, in fact, have driven home, reheated coffee, surfed the internet, channel-surfed the TV, checked my email, and written this far in this blog...and just now my daughter's flight should be taking off...but I won't know for hours until she calls from her eventual destination...

...And I am reminded of the "quality of life" that we had so naively enjoyed, that was stolen from us by the 9/11 terrorists...

So, while I'm blogging, I'm also watching the news channels, seeing images of anti-war protesters screaming their advice that we negotiate and exercise patience with our misunderstood terrorist enemies. And I realize that, while I don't condone genocide per se, I wouldn't shed a tear if we had to vaporize each and every one of those goat-fucking bastards in order to gain a little bit of that quality of life back.

Regardless of our naivete.

posted by huggy 7:17 AM