As I stood in PDX this morning, waiting, shoeless, to worship at the edge of the Sacred X-ray Machine, in hopes that my bags would come back out, I watched two TSA seizures in just five minutes. Two men – grim faced, scolded like children – stood with me in awe of what we have created.
With the power of millions, if not billions, of dollars, thousands of employees, hundreds of hours of time: We have created the world’s most advanced toothpaste detection apparatus. We scour a thousand bags an hour, who am I kidding – probably a millon bags an hour nationwide, and with a 95% success rate, we locate and seize every tube of toothpaste that attempts to pass onto a plane. An entire bureaucracy of rules and regulations that amounts, in the end, to a bunch of road warriors having to go hit a Long’s drug on the other side of the nation, looking, bleary eyed, for a tube of mint flavored abrasive to scrape their teeth clean.
A fantastic future, where no teeth go cleaned midair.