It was with some trepidation that I set out on my trip today. Not because I was concerned about my safety, which I wasn't, but about whether I'd make it through check-in, US INS and customs, and security. Seems my concerns were completely unfounded.

Earlier in the week AC and YVR officials were saying that you needed to be at the airport 3 hours prior to departure for trans-border flights. In the last day or two that was changed to 90 minutes, giving me an extra hour and a half of sleep, for which I'm always grateful. As it turns out, 20 minutes would have been plenty early enough.

It's started in the car rental return area. While not deserted, it was surprisingly quiet for a Friday morning. Likewise with the trans-border terminal, it was not as busy as I expected, or even as I'd typically seen it in the past. I presented myself at the executive class check-in line, and was at the counter inside of about 2 minutes.

I spent a lot of time over the last week trying to figure out exactly how I should pack, which because of so much contradictory information was much harder than it sounds. I phoned UA 8 or 9 times to ask about carry-ons, and got a different answer every time. AC was similar but I only called 3 times, so I only got 3 different answers. In desperation I went to YVR and asked the ticket agents, for both AC and UA. The short answer is that I was still able to take two items on -- my laptop, and a briefcase sized satchel.

In terms of packing, I removed all electronic and battery powered equipment from my checked luggage, and swapped it with stuff like phone and modem cables from my carry-on. Needless to say, I removed everything remotely sharp from my carry-on. This resulted in some bizarre "remains" -- not being allowed to check butane powered items I have to carry on my soldering iron. But it has a sharp tip that wouldn't be allowed on board as carry-on. The end result was that I had to disassemble it, and pack the parts separately.

I presented myself to the agent at 08:40, precisely 90 minutes prior to my 10:10 departure. I was asked a few more questions than usual, but for the most part the process was exactly the same as previous trips.

There was some problem getting my ORD-MKE boarding pass and bag tags, but a few Midas touches caused the appropriate forms to be printed. Then I was asked if I had any electronic items in my carry-on. He he... good one.

I was asked to list all of the items, and the agent wrote them on my boarding pass. At first there was some doubt as to whether there'd be enough space. Laptop computer, 2 cell phones, Fluke ScopeMeter, batteries, GPS receiver, etc, etc, etc. (Oh geez! I forgot all about the "half o' soldering iron.")

Anyway, in short order I was on my way. But here's something new -- there's a guy (several actually) standing guard at the entrance to the Duty Free shop you transit through to get the US INS area. According to the tag on his shirt, he worked for some security company, but I forget the name of it. As I approached he stuck out his hand and gave me a blank stare.

"Yes?"

"Passport."

Hand him my passport, he glances at it and passes it back. He then sticks his hand out a second time, still blankly staring into space.

"Yes? What?"

"Boarding pass."

I hand him my boarding pass, and he again gives it the perfunctory glance and hands it back. Not getting any further indication, I proceed. But have no doubt, these people are not contributing to security.

They're just making sure you have a passport and boarding pass. I'm pretty sure I could have handed him a Saudi passport in the name of Osama bin Ladin and a boarding pass that listed the Pentagon as the destination, and I still would've been waved through. Replacing these people with trained goldfish could save a lot of time and money. Come to think of it, the fish probably wouldn't need to be trained. But they'd still be more effective. What a waste of time and money.

Next stop, US INS. As expected, the INSPASS kiosks were turned off and blocked off, and will be out of service "until further notice." But there was no line-up, so I went to the head of the pathway and waited to be flagged over by an agent. Took less than 60 seconds. Got the usual questions, in the usual apparently disinterested fashion, until I was asked the purpose of my trip. When I told him that it was to upgrade some electronics on a US Coast Guard ship (which means military in the US,) I got a smile and a wave through. "You get those guys ready!!!"

Next stop, US Customs. A longer than usual line up, but still only perhaps 10 people long. In 2-3 minutes, I'm through, and on my way to the dreaded security check.

Again, there's a slight line up but not overwhelming. More surprisingly only one X-ray machine is open. But watching the alleged security people gives me no more of a "secure" feeling that the first "security" person I met before the Duty Free shop. They are generally goofing off and fooling around with their friends.

The fellow ahead of me is asked to take off his jacket and place it on the X-ray belt, which he does. Only the woman operating the machine is fooling around looking in the opposite direction, and doesn't notice. A few "Ahems!" later, she turns to me and in a patronising tone tells me to put my stuff on the belt. Uh, yeah right, Einstein.

"There's already some stuff there."

"Oh."

I put my stuff on the belt, complete with all the electronics. Along with my jacket, I also place my steel-toed shoes, which always set off the metal detector. Nevertheless, I still expected to activate the magnetometer, as mounted inside my right leg, bolted to my femur is a hefty chunk of stainless steel, about the same shape and size as a small automatic handgun. (Not to mention several metal screws and a piece of a broken drill bit.) But no alarm. First time in as long as I can remember.

I collect my stuff on the other side, but the security person has to see my laptop. No mention of everything else, including the rechargeable batteries that other security people have told me look like sticks of dynamite. Of course, because my laptop has energy in the battery it's safe and not dangerous goods as it would be if there were no energy in the battery. No interest in anything else at all, regardless of the, hmmm, exceptional nature of the stuff.

I'm on my way, and at 09:00 exactly, I enter the lounge. Like the rest of the airport, it's strangely vacant and quiet. Not empty, but not the bustling place it usually is. At the appropriate time I head to the boarding area, and board the plane. I'm asked for photo ID, and for once, there seems to be some effort to actually make sure I'm who I claim to be.

I take my seat in what was originally supposed to be a full J cabin (12 seats) but now will only have 3 people, along with 24 in the economy cabin. (A depressingly small number according to the FA, but not as bad as a recent trip from ORD to YVR that had only 20 passengers.)

Suddenly, there's some spirited debate amongst the crew. Seems they've figured where and how to get a corkscrew. For the last several flights they've been serving the Y class "twist off" wines in J, because they couldn't get a corkscrew. But that ends here, now. Success! The finally obtain the new Holy Grail. Ironically, none of the 3 J passengers wants any wine. Still, you have to take your victories where you find them.

Like I'm sure has been announced on every flight in North America in the last week or so, FA's are asked to take their seats as "we are number 1 for take off." Like everywhere else, the runways and taxiways are strangely lonely places.

The flight to ORD is uneventful. We have a very nice meal -- a cold entree, smaller than a hot dinner but plenty for lunch. I consists of a corn salad (is there such a thing?), cheese, crackers, a few grapes, a white and dark chocolate mouse dessert, and a helpfully pre-sliced cold breast of chicken. I say helpfully because along with the 2 metal forks and the metal spoon we have -- there it is -- the infamous "plastic knife."

I'm suitably amused. The irony and absurdity of it all can't be missed. Even more ironically, slicing through the chicken with the plastic knife reveals and interesting fact -- the plastic knives are vastly sharper that the metal ones ever were, and to animal or human flesh, infinitely more threatening. In fact, the plastic knife slices through the chicken much as I expect a sharp metal steak knife would -- effortlessly.

We land in ORD to yet another eerie landscape -- ORD, on a Friday afternoon, with minimal traffic, and AA MD-80's parked along the edge of the taxiways for as far as the eye can see. I'd guess there were 20 or more. We drive straight to the gate, stopping only briefly for one other plane being pushed back.

Expecting huge delays and all sorts of other problems at ORD, I book a 3 hour+ connection at ORD to MKE. (MKE is only 66 miles away, but it reduces the fare by $500, and I figure landing and checking back in for the return flight at a much smaller airport will be much easier. Of course, there's also the matter of the extra 1000 Q-miles.) But instead of landing 2 days late, we are at the gate 20 minutes early. I figure I have plenty of time to catch the next flight instead of waiting 3 hours.

Not wanting to exit the secure area and have to re-clear security, I make my way from Terminal 2 to the RCC lounge in Terminal 1, staying on the airside. Walking past the security line-ups it's clear that this is an excellent plan -- the line-ups are long. But when I get to Terminal 1, the security people are all standing around waiting for something to do. So here's a hint -- if there's a long line-up for security, try a different terminal. Just make sure you can get from one to the other without having to exit the secured area.

It's all so surreal -- Friday afternoon at O'Hare, and it's not nearly as busy as I've seen it at 11pm on a Tuesday night.

I check into the lounge, and promptly see if I can get the earlier flight. While the agent checks, it occurs to me that I should mention that I have checked luggage. Sure 'nuf, that cans it. I must be on the same flight as my luggage. Well, I was expecting to wait, so it's no big deal.

I dig out my laptop with the intention of writing up this here report and discover a major flaw in my packing philosophy. (Well, 2 flaws actually.) Both my laptop power cord, and more importantly, my modem phone cable, are in my checked luggage. Hmmm... well, my battery is fully charged, and there's a bunch of stores in the terminal. Someone must have a phone cable. I check the usual computer and electronics places but come up empty. Giving up, I decide to purchase some music at a CD store instead. They don't have the album I'm looking for (Radiohead) but on the way out I notice... phone cords! $3.99 later I'm on my way.

'Course, FT's down for the day.

Eventually I board my 40-minute flight to MKE. A dismally tightly spaced BA146e with no F class, and a disgustingly dirty interior. I don't think I'll be doing this again.

We land at MKE, and instead of heading to the baggage carousel, I decide to get my car rental while wait for my bags. I just get to the counter when I hear "Arriving passenger Hammmmer on flight UA 5512 please present yourself to the UA baggage counter." Hmmm... not good. Then it clicks.

Sure enough... remember those checked bags that had to go on the same flight as me, thus precluding me taking the earlier flight? That's right, the bags took the earlier flight while I waited in ORD. Oh well, I didn't have to wait for my bags. Back to the car rental counter, and I'm on my way.

So what did I learn today? Mostly that there's a lot of people doing a lot of extra things, none of which are making flying any safer. This nonsense about nail files about sums it up. I'm guessing the people who made that decision realised that the security people were as stupid as rocks (which is probably an unfair comment -- for the rock) and tried to specifically list everything not allowed. So paper backed nail files (emery boards) are probably not allowed, but because they probably didn't specifically disallow Samurai swords, it's probably OK to take them on board.

The guy checking passports and boarding passes has no idea or understanding why or what he's doing, so it would probably be better if he brought a sleeping bag and found a dark quiet corner somewhere out of the way of traffic.

The people at the X-ray machine were so disinterested in what they were doing, and goofing off so much, that I'm pretty sure I could have smuggled an M-1 Abrhams tank on board, which most likely would have really thrown off the weight and balance calculations.

The check-in agent took the time to write down all the "suspicious" items I had on my boarding pass, and then no one else ever looked at the list. Aside from making the check-in process slightly longer, it accomplished absolutely nothing. But I still have the list.

We couldn't have corkscrews on board, but any number of pens was allowed. (I know from first hand experience they can be used as weapons. When I was 10 years old I threw one at my sister and it stuck in her arm.)

And we can't have dull metal butter knives, so they've been replaced with much sharper plastic versions. It does make cutting your meat easier however.

I've also learned that passengers must travel on the same flight as their luggage, but their luggage doesn't necessarily have to travel on the same flight as the passenger.

And then there's my favourite, heretofore unmentioned. It happened at MKE as I was departing the secure area, walking out past the X-ray machines. Like every other airport I can think of, there's a guard there to make sure people don't try to enter (or re-enter) the secure area without going through security. Well, she was there all right. Sitting on a chair, sound asleep. Yes, I thought about waking her. But looking around I could see the other "security" people keeping an eye on her.

As usual, after a long day, even an unfamiliar hotel room feels like home.

[This message has been edited by Ken hAAmer (edited 09-22-2001).]