Some people envy the fact that I travel around a great deal. If you, dear reader, are such a person, then please don’t waste your envy – air travel is hell. Spend your envy where it gets better value.
Air travel used to be fun in the US, but that was before the turn of the millennium. You could hop on and off airplanes as if they were rides at a fair ground. People would meet you and greet you at the gate as you stepped out of the jet way. Air terminals were pleasant places and air travel was one of the great enjoyments of 20th century civilization. God was in his heaven and all was right with the world.
Then came 9/11 and everything changed – probably forever.
Last week I took the “red eye” from Houston to London and was reminded, yet again, how tiresome air travel has become and how fundamentally strange Texas is. Houston airport is unique. No other airport I’ve been through cares to announce regularly over the PA that “inappropriate or humorous remarks may lead to your arrest.”
It’s true, believe me. But what does it mean, I wonder?
Are there different penalties for different types of humour? Perhaps outright wit is dealt with most severely because “no-one likes a smartass”, whereas they’ll let you off with a caution for a good one liner. What is the pun-ishment for a pun? – I’m tempted to ask a security officer, but I think better of it.
If you tell a bad joke are you safe? (“In my defence, I’d like to say that the joke wasn’t really humorous, my comic timing was a little off and to be honest that joke wouldn’t make a hyena laugh.”)
Sitting by Gate E20 a hapless traveler dumps his bag next to me.
“I’d be grateful if you’d watch it for me” says he.
“OK” says I.
“Don’t worry, it won’t explode” says he. Then a concerned look crosses his face.
I know what he’s thinking.
He’s thinking, “Oh my God, was that an amusing comment?”
And he knows what I’m thinking.
I’m thinking “Shall I report him to the Houston humour police?”
{ 1 comment… read it below or add one }
Good observation. Humor is so ….last century – if not downright seditious. Fortunately legions of poorly paid agents of authority are on hand to ensure that we find nothing to smile about. The MIS dept where I work recently tightened our security. Not to worry, ads for sketchy meds, physical enhancements and foreign spouses still get through, but now our system blocks any website that “contains irreverent humor”. I feel much safer now. However to look relieved could be considered unpatriotic, so my brow remains furrowed and my gaze appears vigilant. It’s the post-millennial poker face. My usual inclination is to throw on an emoticon to indicate the sardonic intent of my remarks, but the only one I dare use now is