|Security at Denver International Airport -- a giant empire of bureaucratic overkill?|
Flying from Washington, D.C., to Albany, NY, a few weeks ago for July 4th, I could not help but be reminded of the monstrosity we have made of airport security in this country.
This simple one-hour, non-stop flight turned into a multi-hour affair each direction. Going north, the security screeners stopped the long line and made me pass multiple times through the metal detector before discovering my cough drops had foil inside the paper wrapper. Going south, it was a cemamic coffee mug -- a gift my sister made -- that set off the machines. Coming home from a vacation last winter, they stopped me to confiscate a plastic bottle of listerine and a jar of pineapple marmalade (both slightly over 3 ounces). Then there was the day last February I flew on a business trip wearing a metal ankle brace (I had twisted it in a clumsy running accident) and, as a result, got the full crotch patdown.
|Airport metal detector, 1973.|