Karl Baker's Travel Diary - Part The First

This is Karl Baker's report, written in his own words, followed by a few questions and answers.

Trip to Italy - December 2008

Having met Sergio sometime last spring, we established a wonderful relationship. Not seeing him as much as I wanted because he is so committed to his work, we nevertheless, established a wonderful friendship. We experienced quite a number of weekend outings culminating with a three-day farewell weekend at the Spotlight 29 Casino. Sergio was returning to Italy for about six months and then would return to his work at UCR developing a seedless juice orange (Valencia).

It was during these times together that Sergio suggested that I visit him in Italy. He also let me know that he usually took the entire two weeks around Christmas time as a holiday. So, the seed was planted and now is germinating.

As I write this, I am on the second leg of my flight to Palermo, Italy - Sergio's home. I flew to Philadelphia from LAX transferred to a flight to Rome where I will have a 6-hour layover before I catch a flight to Palermo.

I drove from Desert Hot Springs to a long-term parking lot near LAX, leaving at 3:45 AM and arriving at almost exactly 5:30 for my 7 o'clock flight. All went extremely well until I encountered the TSA security screening process.

Because you must remove your belt as part of the screening process, I, in the past have encountered problems which I have learned to mitigate to my advantage but, to the horror of a few little "tin Jesus" TSA employees. (I don't think a high school diploma or GED is required for this job.) If I remove my belt, my pants fall down. While it might be somewhat possible - though quite inconvenient - to work through the process of removing all metal on my person, placing it, along with shoes, and all outer garments into trays to run through the x-ray machines, placing my laptop on a separate tray (removing it from the carrying case), and complying with assorted other hijinks, I could possibly hold my pants up with one hand, retain my boarding pass in the other and proceed through the security tunnel hoping against hope that the beep will not sound. However, once my belt is removed, it must be replaced so that my pants will remain around my waist. Because of the industrial injury I experienced years ago, I cannot loop the belt through the loops in the back, as it is extremely painful to reach behind myself. It is necessary for me to loop the belt when my pants are off.

Therefore, the solution that works for me is to remove my pants - belt, change and all - place them into a tray and continue through the process wearing only tighty whities, boxers, socks and a "T" shirt. Sometimes I skate through with little or no notice but, as happened today, one of the TSA employees set off all kinds of alarms. You would have thought that I had caused a major disruption in the TSA process. Alas, this one agent went rushing off to find a sympathetic supervisor who would come and chastise me for whatever indecencies I had committed. In the mean time the other agents went about their business with nary a concern. One agent was overheard to say - "What's the big deal?" This was the Friday before Christmas and all through the airport thousands of mommies, daddies, little ones, college students, servicemen and assorted others were queueing up to get through TSA and on their way to what ever loved ones were awaiting them.

Now my errant agent not only was rushing around to find a supervisor, he called the Airport police, and snatched one of my bags with the comment that there was "some liquid in there which I have to check." He found a fleet enema which I had packed in the event that personal hygiene might be necessary somewhere between LAX and Palermo. But now, the gendarmes dressed in blue arrived. First a mature female Sergeant arrived and quickly surmised that I was 'getting off' on all the commotion surrounding me. She dismissed everything and went on her way but, the "little tin Jesus" was not happy with this and soon four more "blues" arrived on the scene and called me aside and asked for my ID. My comment in return was a very simple - "you show me yours and I'll show you mine, remember, just like when we were 5 years old." This comment was not received well and I ended up giving Officer Schroeder my passport. This rather confused him, as he had never encountered this form of ID before. Then Officer Henderson said, "We axed you of yo ID." He was a massive man and in some situations could be considered threatening. I asked him why he didn't speak English. "Do you want to hit my ID with an ax?" Once again the humor was lost on the stern faced quartet in blue. Now, a "little Napoleon" short Sergeant arrived to exercise his authority. He was chewing gum so rapidly that he must have had at least 500 miles on it.

His purpose was to be the bad cop as the quartet in blue had reached the limit of their ability to handle the situation. He informed me that I had four choices; 1.) I could be arrested for not surrendering my ID, 2.) I could be arrested for disorderly conduct PC 148, 3.) I could be taken to King Medical center and committed on a 5150 hold, and 4.) I could cooperate and proceed to take my flight. While the latter option was somewhat attractive, I knew they had no grounds for either of the three other options and suggested that if they chose to exercise any of them I would become a "pig in hog heaven" based on the lawsuit I could file - no pun intended. Well, with many more gyrations in an attempt to intimidate me and with a curt response to my request for a complaint form, I was not sure if I would make my flight. In true bureaucratic fashion Sgt. Gum Chew told me that I would not be allowed on the flight unless a representative from US Air gave me permission. Faced with refunding my first class ticket fare, this was not even a threat. I made it to the flight with time to spare.

Unfortunately, with all of the confusion regarding my bags, etc., somewhere along the way I lost my new cell phone. Oh well, a rather minor price to pay for the humor of the incident.

. . . .

Q & A

Ron's Log: Boxers or briefs?

Karl: I was wearing tighty whities with boxers over them in the event that some objectionable part of my anatomy might be exposed. At one point the police asked me if I was ashamed of dropping my pants in front of women and children to which I replied, "If I had my way I would walk through naked as I am a nudist."

Ron's Log: What kind of shoes?

Karl: My extremely comfortable cowboy boots that are very easy for me to slip in and out of. With almost no stop in motions, I slip off my boots, put them in a tray and place my pants on top of them.

Ron's Log: TSA doesn't like a passport as ID?! Where do these guys work for a living?

Karl: It wasn't TSA that had a problem with my passport for ID - it was the Airport Police Department which, I believe, may be an arm of the Los Angeles Police Department. At no time did I see a badge - I just saw uniforms. When they suggested that I could be arrested and taken to MLK Hospital under a 5150 (In danger of hurting themselves or others) complaint, I responded by saying, "please do." The lawsuit award that I would receive from the City of Los Angeles would be well worth the experience. Sgt. Gum Chew told me that they didn't work for the City of Los Angeles, at which point I informed him that, yes, but he worked for the Los Angeles Airport Commission which was a division of the City Council for the City of Los Angeles. So, there was no more talk about committing me as insane.

The reason the passport wasn't good enough for identification is that the information on the passport was not enough to run a quick criminal record check - which they did. A California - or any other State - driver's license or ID card was their preferred form of identification.

Ron's Log: Did you have more adventures with TSA or customs when returning?

Karl: When returning and going through TSA in Philadelphia my only problem was that I placed the bag that carries my laptop, into a bin. The TSA officer (agent?) demanded that I take the bag out of the tray and place it on the belt by itself. As he was challenging me on this situation I was dropping my pants and putting them into the next tray - nary a comment re: sans pants, but indignation that I placed my bag in a tray and not on the belt directly.

Ron's Log: How was Italian airport security?

Karl: In Italy, upon arrival, I had to, once again, go through the security screening because I was changing from an International terminal to a domestic terminal. Since I tried to venture through the metal detector hoping for a less sensitive detector - oops, it buzzed. I walked back through and dropped my pants and put them in a bin on the belt. The Italian TSA (equivalent) started busting out in laughter. He spoke little English and I spoke even less Italian but he wanted to know where I was from - Texas? Not only the boots, but I wear my hat so I must be a Texan. In any event he thought I was quite a character and found great humor in the entire event. (In LA Sgt. Gum Chew told me that if I tried "that stunt" in Europe I would be in far greater trouble.)

Returning back to the US via Palermo, I went through the same procedure. When the Italian TSA equivalents observed what I was doing - big smiles spread across their faces as they looked at me. I smiled and said "molto facile" - they smiled in return gave me a thumbs up sign and I put my pants back on, and went on my way.