I AM A CLOSET RED SOX FAN. Not really, but because they are going up against the Hated Dodgers in the World Series …It’s baked beans and cod fish for everybody!
This year was not a good year for my beloved San Francisco Giants. In fact it was an “Annus Horribilis” as Queen Elizabeth once put it. Everything that could go wrong did go wrong. To top off the misery the dodgers made it to the World Series. I was in mourning for several days.
“YES – NO – MAYBE… WE’LL GET BACK TO YOU.”
These people are driving me crazy – as if I need much to get me there…
To give you the opportunity to run away and hide I will tell you now that today’s blog is about my most recent encounter with my favorite whipping boy: the bozos of the TSA.
We are on the road again down to Texas for a Family visit. We always enjoy going there. No…We always enjoy being there. It is the “going” part that we can do without.
If you have been following this Blog for any length of time you have read my tormented soul screeds about my skirmishes with the TSA. You’ve seen me call them all sorts of names, most of which would get me off of their Christmas Card list forever. Now, after all I’ve said about them and all the names I’ve called them, they have thrown me a curve ball that made me speechless and nervous all at once.
HURRICANES IN TEXAS AND FLORIDA. Earthquakes in Mexico and even in our Midwest. Typhoons in the Pacific. The Earth is busy.
This is just the perfect set of circumstances that spawn the rise of wild-eyed cults. The fact that September was National Mushroom Month didn’t help. Experience has shown that when things get weird, the weird get weirder.
It’s kind of like how in really hot weather there are some people who seem to come out of the woodwork and go seriously strange. And don’t even ask about the effects of a Full Moon.
Down the Hall on Your Left 