The reason why you try to keep a blog up-to-date is so you don't get all behind schedule with several stories to tell, each weeks old. Am I tempted just to let this one slide and not go through the effort to share this story? A bit. But is it actually highly relevant to the blog in general? Yes.
Part One: Friday, March 22, 2013—Gingerbread Men
I don't know if I've mentioned this here before, but though I presently live in Minneapolis, Minnesota my hometown is Charlottesville, Virginia, notable for housing the University of Virginia and Thomas Jefferson's Monticello. Every so often, I do my best to get back down there and spring break this year seemed like a great opportunity. To make things even more persuasive, I had gotten into UVa and there was an admitted students' day I could attend during the break.
In short, there was plenty of reason to head down to Charlottesville.
For those of you who don't know, Minneapolis and Charlottesville are not exactly close to each other. If your definition of driving distance is something along the lines of "twenty-four hours or less by car," then the two are within driving distance; if not, well, it's time to take the plane.
Taking the plane, unfortunately, involves going through airport security with a leg that will flunk the metal detector in a heartbeat or less.
My home airport, Minneapolis-St. Paul International, is one of the Delta hubs. In short, it's got a lot of traffic, on top of being the major airport attached to a major metropolitan area, population 3.2 million or so. Security lines, therefore, tend to be rather long. This was a concern.
Luckily, I had my father along. My father has infinitely more travel experience than I do and was able to solve the line problem by simply not electing to go through the long security line. As it turns out, there is a hidden security checkpoint in the airport. Accessing it involves taking a tram ride (I love trains, so that's cool) and a couple escalators (also cool). Once you get up there, it's a straight shot to the metal detector.
Which, of course, is where the frame tends to do less well.
Shockingly, making my way through airport security was much easier than anticipated. I explained to the TSA officials that I didn't want to go through the metal detector and instead I got to utilize the fancy x-ray device which garnered so much publicity last year (or was it two years ago?) for supposed privacy violations. It was either that or the pat-down.
The airport security scanning device is fairly simple to pass through. One simply stands with feet shoulder-width apart, as demonstrated by the helpful yellow footprints on the floor, raises arms like demonstrated in the picture, holds for less than a second, walks out when told. What appears on the read-out is the outline of a person that looks suspiciously like a gingerbread man. If you have a suspicious substance or device on your body, that appears in yellow, like a decoration.
You can bet the frame showed up in yellow, which meant that it was time for part two of airport security. The TSA officials told me to walk over to a station where they wiped my hands and wiped the frame. I had to lift the pant leg to show them the device. Sometimes, simply seeing the device was all I needed to move along, as, let's be honest, the odds of one hiding stuff in/on the frame are minimalistic. Sometimes they needed to swipe samples off the frame. But, regardless, the ordeal was almost done.
To be fair, "ordeal" is a bit of a strong word. Airport security with a frame is one of those things which sounds awful but, in reality, isn't, assuming you're going through an airport large and sophisticated enough to have people-scanning machines beyond the humble metal detector. First off, the gingerbread man software readout—not very privacy violating. Second off, the swiping down of frame and hands is not very taxing.
Perhaps most critically, though, was that the security people I dealt with at MSP and a few days later at the Richmond International Airport were really nice, helpful and understanding. When the results of the scanner/x-ray deal came back and I needed additional screening, they carried my bags for me.
Also, the frame got plenty of attention for looking big and scary and somewhat painful. I suspect that the frame's two favorite things in its dim sort of existence are holding bones together and getting attention for being as frame-y as it is.
Part Two: Sunday, April 7, 2013—The Frame Flunks a Metal Detector
My trip to Charlottesville was not the only college-related excursion I made to Virginia within the past little bit. About two weeks ago, I made the journey to Williamsburg, Virginia to spend the weekend on campus at the College of William & Mary, an experience which resulted in me getting a really nice sweatshirt and helped me make up my mind on my educational plans for the next four years.
The trip down to Williamsburg involved passing through security at Minneapolis. Once again, the frame had no problems making it onto the plane.
The trip back to Minneapolis was a bit different.
I boarded at the Williamsburg-Newport News International Airport. If by "international" you mean "Atlanta, Charlotte or Philadelphia," then Williamsburg-Newport News is about as international as you can get. It has two little wings worth of gates. In order to get into either wing, you have to pass through security.
In case you haven't got the picture yet, Williamsburg-Newport News is one of those airports which is neither large nor sophisticated enough to have people-scanning machines beyond the humble metal detector. Things were not looking good for the frame.
When I got to the metal detector, I told the people at security I would fail that particular test.
They had me go through the metal detector anyway.
Let me tell you, with a couple pounds of metal fixed to my leg, I failed that metal detector hard-core. Walked right in and produced some nice beeping.
As a potential security threat, I got to be patted down. As far as the experience goes, it wasn't my favorite. When you reflect on the necessity of the procedure, it doesn't seem that bad as far as privacy goes. But…it's still awkward. I'd much rather have pictures taken than be patted down. The other trick with the pat-down is that, during the entire procedure, I felt bad because it was almost like I was a legitimate security threat. And, all around me, frame-free people were passing through the metal detector without a problem (except for an old lady who forgot to take her earring out, resulting in a return trip through the detector).
The other thing with a pat-down is it takes a lot of time. I hadn't eaten breakfast that morning, planning to grab a bite to eat before getting on the plane. Since clearing security took a lot longer than anticipated (at least five or ten people made it through in the time I failed a metal detector and received my first-ever pat-down).
On the way home, I still felt ridiculously excited that I'd set off a metal detector. I'm not sure why.
But, regardless, the morals of the story:
1) Frames can make it through airport security, too
2) Avoid smaller airports like Williamsburg-Newport News
3) Airport security people are nice (as a general rule), as are metal detector alternatives
4) If you can avoid getting a pat-down (or a frame), that might not be a bad idea
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