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By admin in Travel

Today I’m flying to Knoxville from Moncton.  Hit the airport and ….  Security check… belt off, watch out of pocket, laptop out, liquids out, through and onto the plane I go.

Forward into T-dot and going through pre-customs to the U.S.  Crazy, crazy people.  I now need a tag on each of my carryon bags from the airline (who didn’t give me any and I end up having to hunt some down).
Then customs, which was quick and painless.

Then through security yet again.  Sigh… .belt off, watch out of pocket, laptop out, liquids out.  Also shoes off this time.
Then a second customs check, in which I was asked considerably more questions.

Finally I’m into the gates. It’s been an hour of waiting, but hey, I’m done!

Then yet another lineup that is handchecking carryon.  That’s right.  At the gates themselves, a line of 20 or so tables with agents physically going through bags.  Luckily I was waved through that line and got to walk past.  But here’s the thing.  The second check makes it painfully, painfully obvious that the U.S. does not even trust Canada’s security people to do the baggage checks.  They actually bring people in to do an ADDITIONAL screening!

So much national paranoia and the nagging feeling that I obviously must be guilty for this amount of redundant security checking to be necessary.

Random Celebrities

February 14, 2010
By admin in Uncategorized

Today I’m flying to Knoxville to vist friends of old from my time in Halifax. First off the flight out of Moncton is delayed two hours. Not a big deal as I have a five hour layover in Toronto anyway.

Nat brings me to the airport and we sit and have a cup of decaf. “Ohh, look!” she shows me a brochure picked up off the counter of events in Moncton. Brent Butts (of Prarie Gas fame) was doing a comedy show at the Capitol the night before. Nat’s mom is a big fan, probably would have loved to go.

Ah well, opportunites lost and all that.

But the day takes a unique twist when, after we land, I realize that the man standing in the row beside me, waiting to get off the plane, is Brent himself. Did I talk to him? Manage to have a witty conversation with him in which he loves my wry humor and quick, intelligent thoughts? At least get his autograph? Of course not. Didn’t want to bother him. But it did lead me to wonder why he was on a West Jet flight…

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