Another Airport Story

Too tired tonight to go very far into this white cane story. It happened right after I cleared customs and security at Pearson International in Toronto. Never had my passport confiscated before by anyone, let alone an airport employee insisting on escorting me to the gate. I was too disoriented to stand my ground and refuse assistance. I wanted my passport back. Now I need to track down the appropriate functionary in Ontario and politely discuss anti-discrimination policy and the possibility of a lawsuit. Next time I pass through Pearson, maybe I will put away the cane and trust my dead reckoning.

Sitting at the gate, trying to simmer down, I listened to this week’s On the Media podcast and found a parallel in tactics used by the NYPD to stigmatize reporters in order to limit access to crime scenes. Check out the interviews with Newsday’s Ellis Henican and The Village Voice’s Wayne Barrett about covering Mayor Rudi Giuliani back in the day.

A Security Euphemism for the Republic of Fear

It’s no secret that the angst about national security is a red herring wafted to cover up a multitude of sins. It’s as old as the Republic itself. Perhaps the coinage should bear the motto “Republic of Fear.”

It’s reasonable to expect fear-mongering from the President, the Vice President, the ruling party. But is it really a legitimate reason for limiting access to toilets on a commercial jetliner? I’m not talking about the 40-mile no-pee-on-the-plane zone around Washington, D.C. That might be reasonable, too.

I heard this yesterday on a Northwest flight from Detroit to Toronto. Once the plane reached cruising altitude and passengers were free to unfasten seatbelts and use facilities, the flight attendant announced diplomatically, “To assure security by limiting movement in the forward cabin, passengers are reminded that the lavatory at the front of the plane is reserved for first-class passengers.”

It’s one more example of what Bruce Schneier calls security theater. But hey, what’s wrong with a little class privilege when it comes to keeping America safe?

In Transit…

Get ready, Toronto! I’m coming to town. Flying NWA via Detroit. Airports are always a cross-cultural adventure for an intrepid white-cane traveler. And a source of stories, like Bottom-Feeder, when I found myself stranded on the tarmac, alone and afoot, with nothing but the cane in the middle of a terror alert.

Adieu. More anon.