The Coonridge Digest: It’s a no-brainer

Greetings from Poosey.

Okay, let’s be honest. When the Christmas flight 253 was nearly blown up by yet another airborne terrorist and then the news suddenly became alive with the prospect of full-body scanners at the airport, your first thought was not about bombs or rights of privacy. My guess is that the first fear in your head became, "Good Lord, what will I look like in a full-body scan!?"

Psychologists tell us that one of the most common nightmares is still the specter of being naked in public. The suit we were born with is seldom enough unless you’re a stripper or a three-year-old when the minister comes to visit.

So, you give me a choice: A) get myself viewed by a bored security worker in another room, or B) be blown to smithereens by a crazed bomber, I’ll opt for the show-all. It’s a no-brainer. No matter what I think about my body, I’d prefer to keep it in one piece.

Of course all this hinges on the actual efficiency of the screening equipment, but for the sake of discussion let’s say that the bare-butt-bomb-detector actually works. And frankly, I’m not terribly concerned about the ACLU’s protests. Flying is not a God-given right unless you’re a sparrow.

So why not kill two of these sparrows with one stone? Increase the security and make the long waiting lines more tolerable? I’d advocate televising the full-body scans on big high-definition TV screens throughout the airport, along with a couple of commentators. At least it would make for a more entertaining wait as you arrive at the airport three hours early.

"Frank, we’re here at Lambert Field this morning with today’s highlights of the full-body scans. What’s the action like this morning?"

"You know Pat, we’ve got an interesting group coming through Gate 20-A right now. Let’s go down for the live action."

"Say, isn’t that your wife, Frank?"

"I wish, Pat. No, the gal at 20-A shows some signs of a recent appendectomy and my little gal’s still got hers intact. Hey! What’s going on down at 3-B?"

"Looks like we’ve got two men being scanned at once, Frank. This is a first for Lambert!"

"I hate to correct you, Pat, but that’s just one guy. Wow. One big guy. See? Only two legs."

"Could have fooled me, Frank. Anything interesting on the South Concourse? Frank? You there, Frank?"

"Sorry Pat, but the Delta flight to Dallas is boarding on 17-A and the Cowboy cheerleaders are being scanned as we speak. Uh… Pat… could I get back to you later? I think this would be a great time for an on-the-spot interview."

"Hold on, Frank! Look at your monitor scanning 4-A, North Concourse. Idaho is boarding Flight 217."

"We don’t have any flights to Idaho, Pat."

"No, I mean the entire state of Idaho. I’m not kidding. Look at that guy. He’s shaped just like the state of Idaho. Narrow at the top then spreading out to…"

"Just a minute, Pat, I’m here with one of the Dallas cheerleaders. Miss Laura Jean Wongas of Houston. Laura Jean, what was it like to get your first full-body scan?"

"Well Frank, the best part was the applause I got when I came out of the scanner. It was a bigger thrill than a Cowboys’ touchdown. Hold on just a minute, would you? They’re asking me for an encore."

"Pat, we’ve got a Weight Watchers convention loading out to Boston, but the screen seems to be blurred."

"It’s the wrinkles, Frank. That second gal looks like a contour map of southern Indiana. Remember that lady last week with the stretch marks? You mistook her for a referee?"

"The action’s getting pretty hot over on 22-A. It’s that team of weight lifters from Hawaii. They’re signing autographed copies of their scans. You ever done that, Pat?"

"No."

Happy flying, and if you’re really that nervous about being blown away over Ohio, Virgin Airlines has proposed the idea of an all-naked flight. No scanning necessary.

You ever in Poosey, stop by. We may not answer the door but you’ll enjoy the trip.