Well, *I* heard it from Michael Moore. How ’bout *you*?

Yes. The film-maker. He was sitting in Daytwa Metro on Sunday afternoon when cops and ambulances and things surrounded an incoming jetliner from Amsterdam. He twittered about it and one of my Twitter buddies (@agategal) retweeted him. Note: I don’t follow Michael Moore on Twitter and he definitely doesn’t follow me. I don’t follow a whole lot of people. I am on the Internet too much as it is and I have to draw the line somewhere.

Oh, no. Not again. Same flight as Christmas Day? Another Nigerian? Is there a pattern here? That’s my airport! I don’t know about the landing patterns but outbound planes fly over my neighborhood many times a day. My daughter flew into Metro on the 23rd and had a flight out again in two days (that would be this morning). This was starting to get a little nerve-wracking. I jumped onto some news sites. They were filled with the usual conflicting details of a breaking story. We actually went so far as to brainstorm alternate transportation to Pittsburgh. Train? 20 hours. Megabus? Doesn’t go there. Rental car? Hmmm. Only four and a half hours. About the time it takes to get to the Mackinac Bridge or beyond.

Back at the airport, mmflint tweeted that he didn’t know what was going on but flights were still taking off (and I could hear them heading out over my neighborhood) and he was going to resume reading his book. I thought he sounded a bit bored with it all but maybe that was just the 140-character limit. Within an hour or so, it became clear that this was not a repeat bombing attempt, just some poor schmo with a gastrointestinal problem. If I was sick and somebody dragged me out of the bathroom, I’d’ve been beyond verbally abusive. I sure hope somebody apologized to him.

So here we go. More TSA rules. Many folks who know a lot more than me have written plenty about this all over the web. I am just a small, inexperienced and rather uninformed voice. But where the heck did they come up with these rules? I think they are grasping at straws. How do they think prohibiting people from using their laptops, et al, the last hour of a flight is going to prevent a bombing? And keeping people out of the bathroom? Seems like that one has already been proven useless, or maybe dangerous is a better word. I have a novel idea! Why don’t we keep people on those watch lists OFF airplanes? What are those lists for anyway? Are we just storing names in a database for the fun of it? And yes. I know this is complicated. I know there will be people who are put on those lists for dubious reasons. I don’t know how to sort that out. But we have to figure it out and stop punishing the not-so-trembling masses for the acts of a few deranged individuals.

I got up at 3:45 AM today to drive Lizard Breath to Metro in order to make a 7:00 AM flight. It was nuts over there but I’ve seen it worse. She reported long lines but both her flights were apparently on time and she made it to Pittsburgh safely. No word on allowed bathroom usage. Heck, I hate the idea of going to the bathroom on an airplane so much that I don’t eat or drink anything significant when I fly, which is not very often and I can survive a non-stop trip to the left coast without the loo on most days.

2 Responses to “Well, *I* heard it from Michael Moore. How ’bout *you*?”

  1. Margaret Says:

    I drink a LOT of water on planes, so this would not be comfortable for me. I will hope that the rules will be reasonable(HA HA) for the next time I fly. Glad that L.B.’s flights were routine. That’s a good thing these days.

  2. Tonya Says:

    Thankfully they’ve already eased up on these restrictions (the ridiculous ones). I suspect we’ll all be in for full body scans one day, and it does sound like they have the technology to not show detailed nether-regions. I’d be OK with that. Something tells me that the Repubs will say NO! even tho I think it would prevent this type of thing. I’m so glad the incident Michael Moore was witnessing but had no information about turned out to be a poor fellow with a bad tummy. (Sorry, poor fellow!)