JOHN VC

I see where the Airport Terrist Kops have decided to give up on cigarette lighters because it “isn’t worth the effort.” It isn’t that cigarette lighters ever were a security threat, like you could burn through the cockpit door with one, or incinerate an Air Marshal. It was that the Shoe Bomber found it difficult to ignite his sneakers with matches — giving his seatmates time to become mildly curious — and after that the Kops went all crazy saying, eeek, what if he’d had a Bic instead, and started shaking everyone down for cigarette lighters. But, as the head Kop said today, acting out silly scripts such as these for what he called “security theater” takes time and people away from the real job. He won’t last.

It makes you wonder whether ANY of it is worth the effort. For example, we no longer have to surrender scissors and corkscrews, but would you want a Muslim madman coming at you with a big corkscrew? On the other hand, any teen ager knows how to get a fake drivers license — so much for the picture ID at checkin. Worse, they don’t search your behind, which (according to my friend the criminal lawyer) is where bad guys in prison stash their shivs, feh. And what’s to stop a martyr from checking a huge bomb in the regfrigerator-sized suitcase now customary for third world travelers — and using his cell phone to dial heaven from economy class? That possibility would keep you from flying Virgin Atlantic, hm? And what about fake sleeping babies molded out of plastic explosive, or real sleeping babies with something worse than poo poo in their diapers? Just thinking out loud here. Have to watch it. I got in trouble with Enid by wisecracking, as we sat putting our shoes back on, that it is going to get really interesting to go through security after the terrists come out with exploding underpants.

Anyway, the real problem with air travel is the delays and discomfort. I must have described my million dollar idea before, but where are the urgent phone calls from the venture capitalists? It’s certainly simple enough. Passengers line up to get knockout drops from a dispenser in the departure lounge, and are packed into comfy padded boxes labeled with destination bar codes, ready to be shipped as air cargo. No airline food, no middle seats, no crying babies, no standing in line for the stinky john. Just a pleasant sleep, and wake up in your hotel room, or on your doorstep at home. Or, of course, in Hong Kong. Box cutter extra.