More on that in a moment.
The brouhaha surrounding the "to scan or not to scan, pat down or not pat down" issue is, predictably, bubbling closer to a boil point as the busiest travel day of the year appears on our radar.
If you believe what your read (and, admittedly, I have mixed feelings about that concept because I'm innately skeptical but, at the same time, taking on faith that you believe what I'M writing here...) a mini revolution is brewing for November 24.
Here's the link to the latest:
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/40242420/ns/travel-news
Okay. Here's the view from the center line.
People are, by nature, individuals.
Individuals don't like being told what, where, when or how to do.
Government is, by its nature, entirely about telling people what, where, when and how to do.
Much of the time, people go with the flow.
Speed limits, licensing requirements, assorted and sundry rules and regulations, all of which are, ostensibly, created to make life safer for the many, some of which accomplish that purpose, some of which toe the line between direction and dictation.
The laying on of hands, though, is usually where even the best of intentions go south.
The mindset of the average American goes a little like this.
"...I'll stand in your damn line at the DMV, I'll wait patiently for my turn at Space Mountain, I'll even disperse though the cause be just...but try to pull or push me toward, or away from, it and I'll dig in my heels so deep it'll take a back hoe to pry me loose...."
Now, let's thicken the plot.
Because Osama Bin Laden and his wack job posse made the Towers come a tumblin down, our own government, much like a well meaning, but over protective, parent, continues to invent new ways to protect us.
Putting aside the legitimate question "why, after ten "quiet" years, are we just NOW so drastically ramping up the airport security thing...is there something you're not telling us?", here's the dilemma.
Some well meaning, over protective parent has decided that we need to be scanned.
Six to five and pick em' there's a body scan machine manufacturing company lurking somewhere around the story line here.
As a result, Joe and Joan Six Pack are faced with a lose lose situation.
Choose being checked out all over.
Or being checked out all over.
Which brings us back to that "don't like to be told what, when, where or how to do" thing.
Checkmate.
For almost ten years, we have all co-operated pretty patriotically with the "don't pack shampoo, take off your shoes, no, your family can't meet you at the gate" revisions to what used to be a reasonably uncomplicated event, an airplane trip.
Now, we're being told we have to be x-rayed or touched x-rated.
Okay, that's it.
It's time to let mommy and daddy know that we're big kids now and we know the risks and we know the dangers and while we are willing to be mature about not being able to pack shampoo, keep our shoes on or have the family waiting at the gate, we don't want to be x-rayed and we don't want to be touched x-rated and we just want to get on the damn plane.
We're not stupid. We know how the world works. We know there is a statistical possibility that our flight will come to its conclusion on the fiftieth floor of some skyscraper.
We get it.
And while we appreciate your ramped up efforts to "keep us safe', we sincerely believe that the value of that effort is too costly when it results in a three year old child being groped by a stranger in the name of safety.
Every intelligent parent knows that, when it comes to keeping kids safe, there is, literally, only so much you can do.
At some point, you have to suck it up, give them the keys to the car, tell them you love them and hope for the best.
The government needs to suck it up, give us the keys to the car and hope for the best.
When an ounce of prevention becomes an unbearable burden, its time to lower the dosage.
We're all willing to swallow that ounce.
And we all know what the odds are.
It would look like this on that bumper sticker I mentioned earlier.
"Life...it's the chance we take..."
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