I had an eventful travel experience today.

First, on my turboprop flight from JFK (in NYC) to IAD (DC), we sat there on the ground, waiting and waiting. Finally they explained that some of the passengers who were supposed to go through secondary screening had not (due to some security screwup), and some beaurocrats (the Transportation Security Administration - a new federal agency) were dithering on what to do about it. After an hour of dithering, the TSA came and pulled some guy (a Mr. Friedman, coincidentally - but not me) off the plane. When his friend gave him a cellphone (to maintain communication about what was going on), the fed said "are you travelling with him?". The friend said "yes". The TSA guy said "you come along too", and took them both away to be searched.

It was a frighteningly fascist moment.

I mused to the old white lady next to me, with whom I'd been talking, about whether we'd wait for them to come back or not. In her nice little we're all ok and all friends voice, she said "I hope they don't bring them back. We don't need them. Let them take care of their own problems." I felt sick, but being a nice guy I couldn't bring myself to say anything.

Eventually they brought them back, and we took off. The searching, of course, had taken less time than the dithering to decide whether to search.

Later during the flight, as I worked on my laptop, I idly daydreamed about heroically saving the plane using my recent piloting experience. Both the pilot & copilot going unconscious simultaneously, that sort of farfetched thing. The hard part was rationalizing why I wouldn't be giving medical aid, as I have formal training in medicine but not flying. But I managed :) (for the first aiders in the audience: "scene safety"). As I daydreamed, we hit some turbulence, and my seatmates Coca-Cola slid sideways and overturned onto my keyboard.

I reacted quickly, lifting the laptop and turning it upside down so that gravity would be my friend. I quickly saved my work and shut it down from this awkward position, then removed the battery, borrowed a napkin, and began sponging the computer off. Eventually, when my laptop was in good shape, I wiped myself off a bit. My seatmate was apologetic, and I was very even-tempered, downplaying the whole thing.

Having packed light (one day-pack for 5 days), I had all my clothes with me in carryon, and I headed back to the small planes bathroom to change. My other pair of shorts had lost a button, and my arms and legs were still sticky where the soda had soaked through, but it was an improvement and I easily focused on that. I was going to have to stay sticky for the next 7 or 8 hours, but there was a shower waiting in California. At home I was going to have to remove and clean the laptop's keyboard, and wipe the case down carefully to remove the sugary residue, but at least it wasn't fried.

As I returned to my sticky seat I told my seatmate not to worry, I had extra clothes and the laptop would be fine after I cleaned it at home. While sitting down, I remembered my daydreaming and chuckled at the contrast between the emergencies we imagine and the typical situations we encounter in our daily lives. No lives saved, no cheers, no press, just the constant challenge of remaining calm and sensible, even when things have gone awry. A coke in the lap is not very glamorous, but hey, I'll take what they give me.

P.S. Perhaps due to compensatory karma, my plane to SJC got in a solid half hour early, and I was sitting outside, reading a book (because I was so early and there couldn't possibly be anyone here for me yet), and after a few pages there was a honk, and there was a big SUV with dawn in it! Yay! Dawn was early too, so that worked out, and I got my shower a good 20 minutes earlier that I had expected.

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