Sorry for the protracted absence, readers, but blogging has been interrupted by hectic daily (and not-so-daily) life events for the past few weeks; however, I look forward to returning to regular posting in the near future.

Just flew back from Washington, DC yesterday, hours before events in the UK plunged us into travelers' Hell once more. *sigh* Something I tried for the first time - not that I had a choice in the matter, really: DCA (Reagan National) has the Smiths Detection chemical trace detection units that blast you with air to see if you're carrying explosives or drugs on your person...not the most pleasant experience (those airjets dry out contacts in a flash - I'd have shut my eyes if I knew how strong the air blasts would be), but it beats a cavity search any day. Next time I fly, I'm sure the new restrictions will still be in place...this time, no liquids.

No shoes, no shampoo, no deodorant; no water or drinks. Hmm. Remind you of anything? Wandering 40 days in the desert, perhaps?

Actually, the trace detection portion of the security screening requires you to keep your shoes on - and, had Richard Reid tried to walk through of these babies with his chaussures plastiques, he would have been taken down in a hailstorm of sirens, flashing lights and Segway'd airport cops.

One nattily-dressed foreign gentleman ahead of me in line didn't quite understand the TSA agent's barked instructions to KEEP YOUR SHOES ON, ON!, resulting in an awkward queue delay and said gentleman's beeline to the shoeshine stand for a quick touch-up before boarding - after the shoes had to come OFF, OFF! for the metal detector portion of the security check.

Really, fingerprints on brown Bruno Maglis just don't make it.

"Focus, Daniel-san! Shoes ON, Shoes OFF! Shoes ON, Shoes OFF!" [NSFW]

Someday, they'll just strip us naked, tranquilize us, and stack us upright like cordwood to fly.

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