There has been SO much on 'Don't Touch my Junk'

About travelling to and out of and within the US....

But hearing about intense body pat-downs, and radioactive nude screenings....

I Loved the guy who said, 'Don't touch my junk or I'll have you arrested.'

I jumped up and cheered.

It's always been terrible, going in or out. Always. But being so invasive, and so personal.....

Well.. Da Ven got a humiliating search at a local small airport a few years ago... he just wanted to go see a football game... The search was IN PUBLIC. You really want to wrap your minds around that one... Because, you see, he had knee joint replacements and they kept setting off the metal detectors. He TOLD them, but no... they had to do a number on a ninety plus year old man. Bravo. I get angry when I even THINK about it.

And people keep asking me about why I will never want to GO there. It isn't about after when they let you in... It's the humiliation you have to go through when you land. I've had the 'honour' of being on both sides of the problem.

Went in as an Ami under Nixon. It was terror city. Which ended with an agent unrolling a computer print-out, and telling me everything I 'did' while out of the country. Intimidation, that seemed to be the goal. I just shrugged. But never trusted them again.

And every time, every time I went back there... Immigration was the fucking pits, hostile, angry, insulting...

I used to tell Peter... 'If we treated our visitors the way they do, we'd be bankrupt.'

The last time I set foot on that continent... it was my gift to the Ven, who had been here for a few weeks on a visit. And we had different passports. So we had to go to different venues, and it was really creepy on one level... splitting up a family. Don't want to elaborate on it, but it was more than uncomfortable.

Aaannnd.. as usual, I got a total asshole. Oh fucking wow. He TURNED my passport over and over, and ramained silent. And I thought, 'What the FUCK is he up to?' Cleared my throat and said, 'I have a return ticket.'

'OH, we KNOW you have a return ticket...' So fucking gay, btw.

I was BOILING inside... but remained outwardly calm... and then I lost it.

'Listen, I've been gone for fifteen years, I am here to visit my family, and THEN, after ten days, I'm going BACK because I have a job and have to WORK.'

Well, that fucker took his time, and laconically stamped a visa in my passport.

I'd love to have strangled him on the spot... inside, I mean.

And people keep ASKING me why I wouldn't go back there, ever, not in a million years....

Y'know... no one here has ever done stuff like that pre 9/11. And they don't do it now, have flown to Rome, and Sicily...

No one bothered us in any way.

The only pat down I got---- other than the local police who harrassed me if they were new on the beat and shoved me up against a brick wall and were mostly... MOSTLY... appropriate were rookie cops.... and a 'professional' one in the airport at Hamburg. Except, there were REAL terrorists roaming about.

But I have to love that kid on the news... 'Don't touch my junk or I'll have you arrested.'

And THAT is stellar.

And no... no one ever touched my junk. As far as police searches went. Bravo.