Tactical Packing Adjustments

I would just ilke to say a big fat thank you to all the nutjobs, terrorists, extremists, stupid joking idiots of the world who make packing for any flight into a comedy of grotesque proportions.

I was all ready, yes indeedy I was. Everything fit, I was under the weight limit as long as my scale was correct, and I had a plan for the last remaining bits of things to go in. And then, they thankfully caught a bunch of idiots in Great Britian.

Now, let's be clear. I'm glad they caught them. I truly am. Having worked on those crappy ass cases, I know what a wonder it is when you can actually make an arrest. But I pity any poor fool who actually thinks he can hijack a plane this weekend anywhere in America. Not sure about other countires, but I do know that for the next week or so, American based flights are bad places for terrorists. Not only can I not take my usual water on the plane, but I also can't keep my shampoo from exploding, bring eyedrops for when my eyes crust over on the red eye, nor bring home any delightful, liquid goodies from the East Coast without risking their integrity with the baggage handlers.

Why is this significant? Can't my pampered American ass handle a liquid-less environment for a few hours? In a word, No. Not only am I miserable without those tiny amenities, but I will likely have to wait in line for an extra 3-4 hours for the joy of dehydrating at 30,000 feet. And not only that, but the bastards have already taken my ability to sew, knit, crochet, and embroider on planes, thanks to the ban on sharp pointy objects. Yes, I know they've given in a tiny bit, but I still marvel at the concept of threatening someone with those tiny sewing scissors. They should get their own martial art developed around delivering tiny incisions and dealing maximum damage.. But I digress into dreams of obliterating those who make travelling quickly a nightmare. Next they'll limit the size and weight of the books and magazines you can take aboard - you might threaten someone with a paper cut!

So imagine with me, a flight not only of sight and sound, but of mind. The only limit to the ways of expressing your frustration is through your own imagination. Cross over with me into.... The Sammy Travel Twilight Zone (cue dramatic music here). I pity the fool who attempts to hijack my red eye flight. Not only do I hate red eyes, but I'm also cranky when woken before my time. Combine the two with the entertaining crap in my luggage, and you start to get a glimmer of my mind set should anything happen. While my books and clothes may not sound terribly dangerous, I think I could put up a wicked fight with a sari and a law book. Imagine me in the aisle of an airplane telling my fellow passengers to duck, twirling my wrapped treatise on land use over my head, while I clobber some fool into the next time zone. Now this, my friends, is why you work out!

So yeah, if you hear something entertaining on the news, pray it's not me. I'm definitely hoping for an uneventful trip!