Oleg Volk
Moderator Emeritus
Most people violate their own principles on a regular basis. Some do it for gain, others out of fear, most for the broadly defined "practical reasons". Air travel falls into that last category for me. Two hour sin the air and ninety minutes at the airport let me see family who live a day's drive away.
I sit at the airport now, wearing a cap with the most ironic words on it: "Molon lave" -- "Come and get them". The reference is to the 300 Spartans who wouldn't give up their arms when menaced by a superior Persian force. My arms are in checked luggage, and I feel dirty, like a prisoner doing the perp-walk in front of news cameras. The usual weight of the holstered sidearm is missing from my hip, an omission of which only I am cognizant. My backup pistol is so light that I don't even realize that it is also absent until my hand enters the pocket where that gun normally resides.
I don't even feel all that vulnerable. Of course, historic precedents are grim for those who had lost their arms. In 1945, most of the Polish soldiers who fought under British colors were disarmed under the pretense of getting re-equipped. The lot of them was then shipped to the Soviet gulags for extermination. Hopefully, at this stage, it wouldn't profit the US government to catch individuals at the airport despite the clear window of vulnerability. Such an action would likely rile up the victims' friends. Still, that condition of being disarmed and helpless is truly unpleasant. Three policemen, just coincidentally wearing brown shirts, walked past just now. They had pistols just like mine on their belts. I lacked even the means for dealing with a hangnail.
I've often told my foreign friends that Americans are relatively free people. I have to admit that we are also subject to the whims of government authority on a regular basis. truly, I should have worn another cap to the airport, the one which reads "Please don't hurt me. I am not armed" -- it would be more true to the reality.
Air travel used to be pleasant. Terrorism as far back as the 1970s made it a little dangerous, and government-designed security measures made the experience thoroughly unpleasant. Welcome to the steerage, enjoy your flight!
I sit at the airport now, wearing a cap with the most ironic words on it: "Molon lave" -- "Come and get them". The reference is to the 300 Spartans who wouldn't give up their arms when menaced by a superior Persian force. My arms are in checked luggage, and I feel dirty, like a prisoner doing the perp-walk in front of news cameras. The usual weight of the holstered sidearm is missing from my hip, an omission of which only I am cognizant. My backup pistol is so light that I don't even realize that it is also absent until my hand enters the pocket where that gun normally resides.
I don't even feel all that vulnerable. Of course, historic precedents are grim for those who had lost their arms. In 1945, most of the Polish soldiers who fought under British colors were disarmed under the pretense of getting re-equipped. The lot of them was then shipped to the Soviet gulags for extermination. Hopefully, at this stage, it wouldn't profit the US government to catch individuals at the airport despite the clear window of vulnerability. Such an action would likely rile up the victims' friends. Still, that condition of being disarmed and helpless is truly unpleasant. Three policemen, just coincidentally wearing brown shirts, walked past just now. They had pistols just like mine on their belts. I lacked even the means for dealing with a hangnail.
I've often told my foreign friends that Americans are relatively free people. I have to admit that we are also subject to the whims of government authority on a regular basis. truly, I should have worn another cap to the airport, the one which reads "Please don't hurt me. I am not armed" -- it would be more true to the reality.
Air travel used to be pleasant. Terrorism as far back as the 1970s made it a little dangerous, and government-designed security measures made the experience thoroughly unpleasant. Welcome to the steerage, enjoy your flight!
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