I’ll admit, I have forgotten for entire flights to set my smartphone to airplane mode. Only one of those fights had to execute an emergency landing after dumping extra fuel over the Great Salt Lake. But, I never forget to wear my special security checkpoint outfit when traveling the friendly skies: sandals (no socks), form fitting spandex without belt and cotton undershirt (wife-beater style). It’s lickety-split through the dessembly line for me, and I never get a pat-down.
I figure the less I leave to the imagination the less likely anyone will want to imagine anything about me, including the likelihood that I might suddenly trill at the top of my voice and yell “Mecca, Mecca, Allah, Jihad!”
But at the same time, I realize that many of my fellow Americans are deeply concerned about the “porn scanners” that are popping up at TSA checkpoints. But, I ask you to once again consider the sustainable wisdom of rednecks. What if the wise redneck was in charge of airport security?