Greetings from Gate 6 at Bradley International Airport. Our plane is listed ‘on time’, though there’s no plane at Gate 6 right now. We fly to Baltimore, stop for dinner, then board another flight to Albuquerque.
The Albuquerque airport is called the “Sunport.” A little too cute for an airport.
I pulled up at the curb, took the bags out of the car and milled around, hoping no policeman would ask me to move along. The idea was to get the bags checked, then drop off the car at long term parking. It worked.
We passed security unscathed. If I would have removed any more clothing, I could have been arrested for indecent exposure.
Some folks were being sent through a ‘puffer.’ I don’t know what it does, but I feel no more secure knowing it’s there. I’m sure GE, whose large logo is festooned on the side, is thrilled.
As we removed our sneakers, a steady beep came from a line of passengers nearby. A fierce looking 80 year old woman was being given the once over. Something she brought through the X-Ray machine wasn’t making the screeners happy.
Considering my feelings about the screening process, you might think I’m making this up. I am not.
As we continued through the screening area, I flashed back to the first real estate closing I ever had – the one for our condo when Helaine and I moved to Connecticut. That morning I looked at all the people sitting at the table and thought, “I’m paying for all these people. Why?”
The TSA’s secure area is now plastered with signs printed on 8 1/2 by 11 inch paper. Take off your shoes. Are your gels in small see-through plastic bags? Are you packing fireworks? It’s beginning to resemble the DMV with its institutionalized surliness.
Where are the good old days when the only signs you saw warned you about Murtala Mohammed Airport?
Oh, there’s one more thing about the airport. At least at this gate, the PA system is set at stun level.
At last check, the weather forecast for our Saturday morning balloon ride was still iffy. I’m hoping for better news.
See you from New Mexico.