Re: [APD] Fw: The fish that threatened national security

["S. Hieber" <shieber at yahoo_com>]

Two exraordinary things here. One is that TSA reps insisted
the fish could not pass through The second is that it
rather easily did pass through.

I wondered what is the perceived potential threat from a
bagged betta, the potential for which is not just as great
via any number of other ways that aren't prohibited.

I realize that some might think this approaches something
like blasphemy. But that would miss my meaning -- because
TSA has an important role to play, I want to see TSA
perform it well. 

An organization I know of has had to deal with TSA often. I
hope to see them become much more organized someday.  It
might take a long time before they perform their role well.

And local interpretations of the rules, unfortunately, can
sometimes become eccentric.

Scott H.
--- Tom Farrell <tfarrell03 at snet_net> wrote:
> 
> ----- Original Message ----- 
> Sent: Wednesday, December 31, 2003 10:53 AM
> Subject: The fish that threatened national security
> 
> 
> Forum: The fish that threatened national security
> 
> College student Lara Hayhurst was not prepared to let
> officials treat her little pet like Osama 'fin' Laden 
> 
> Sunday, December 28, 2003
> 
> Like many college students who flew home for the
> holidays, I had to endure the latest airport safeguards
> in the name of homeland security. A lot of us have
> stories to tell, but only mine is a fish tale, a
> contemporary melodrama of the absurd to prepare you for
> future travels. 
> 
> My boyfriend Trey and I arrived by taxi at the US Airways
> terminal of La Guardia airport. We had four bags apiece,
> and one more precious piece of cargo -- MJ, my pet fish.
> MJ is a gorgeous fighting Betta fish, his palate a
> perfect pastel rainbow. He had become quite a solace to
> me in New York, a city that can make you feel so small
> and alone. 
> 
> I missed my cats at college, and it really helped to have
> this tiny, exuberant creature to look after. Betta fish,
> research has shown, are the only aquatic animals that can
> recognize their owner. MJ was no exception. I'd walk into
> my cold dorm room after a long day and his body would
> just light up, and he would swim excited circles around
> his little bowl. Unfortunately, residence hall rules
> required that I take him home with me for winter break.
> That was just as well, since there would be no one there
> to care for him. 
> 
> At La Guardia we proceeded to security and the X-ray
> inspection point run by the Transportation Security
> Administration. I have learned by now that, post-9/11, a
> traveler is better off safe than sorry when proceeding
> through security. 
> 
> I wasn't prepared, however, for the TSA to stop me right
> at the entrance, proclaiming that no small pets,
> including fish, were permitted through security. I had,
> however, just received the blessing of the ticket agents
> at US Airways and pre-assured MJ's travels with
> Pittsburgh International Airport security weeks before
> our travel date. I tried to explain this to the screener
> who stood between me and the gates, but she would have
> none of it. 
> 
> I was led back to the US Airways ticket counter,
> stocking-footed and alone, where the agents reasserted
> that they did not see a problem for me to have a fish on
> board, properly packaged in plastic fish bag and secured
> with a rubber band as MJ was. But the TSA supervisor was
> called over, and he berated me profusely. He exclaimed
> that in no way, under no circumstances, was a small fish
> allowed to pass through security, regardless of what the
> ticket agents said. 
> 
> Mr. Supervisor was causing a grand scene, marshaling the
> full authority of the TSA to refuse me. Now, I know my
> fish is a terrorist (Osama Fin Laden we used to call him
> back at school), but doesn't it strike you as funny that,
> with all the commotion my little security threat was
> causing, by now engaging the full attention of the TSA at
> LaGuardia, that someone who posed a real threat to
> passenger safety might be conveniently slipping by? 
> 
> By this time, I was in tears. The supervisor furiously
> told me to dispose of the fish. Dispose of my fish?! What
> did he want me to do, throw him away? He told me to go
> outside and give him to whomever I came to the airport
> with. When I explained I was a college student, alone in
> New York City (save for boyfriend Trey), he brushed me
> off and said that was not his problem. 
> 
> I cried some more. With no other option that we could
> see, Trey and I headed toward a rest room. 
> 
> Inside the ladies' room, I looked at MJ, swimming happily
> in his bag, and then the looming porcelain toilet bowl in
> front of me. I broke down. I couldn't do it. 
> 
> I went back outside and told Trey I couldn't flush MJ. It
> was then, in this hopeless predicament, that Trey, ever
> brilliant and supportive, had an idea. He explained his
> plan to me. 
> 
> Trey disappeared into the men's room with the fish and my
> backpack. When he got into the stall, he let out a bit of
> the water in MJ's bag, and packed the fish into my
> backpack, which only contained pants. Wedged between some
> corduroys and khakis, we prayed he wouldn't suffocate or
> get squished, not to mention fried by the security X-rays
> that can be fatal to small creatures such as fish. Every
> Web site I visited, every vet that I contacted said that
> air travel was no problem for Bettas, as long as I did
> not, under any circumstances, allow it to go through the
> X-ray machine. 
> 
> In my research, I had learned that running a fish through
> an X-ray would be like a human getting radiation without
> wearing the protective lead cloak. At this point, though,
> we had no choice. We proceeded to a different security
> checkpoint, on the other side of the terminal. 
> 
> Before we went through, Trey grabbed my hand. "Lara," he
> said, "you know there are only a few outcomes. 
> 
> "One, they will see his bag or skeleton in the X-ray and
> catch us, we'll get in huge trouble for crossing security
> and we'll have to flush the fish. Two, he may die
> instantly in a blaze of glory from the X-rays. Or, he'll
> miraculously survive and we'll smuggle him onto the plane
> and pray that he survives the exposure." I shuddered and
> nodded. 
> 
> We took a deep breath and proceeded. We loaded our things
> onto the belt before the X-ray machine and walked
> through. Once past the scanner, Trey and I grabbed our
> things and ran for the gates, eager to find the first
> bathroom to see if MJ was intact. On the way, we passed
> by the original security checkpoint we had tried to go
> through. 
> 
> The agents were huddled together, and recognized us.
> "What did you do with the fish?" they asked, "What did
> you do with the fish!?" 
> 
> Sensing a chance for comeuppance, Trey put on his
> "stone-cold-supportive-protector" face and said with
> great dramatics, "You know what ... we flushed him. We
> flushed him because you made us [pause for effect]. You
> killed my girlfriend's fish. No, you made her kill her
> fish ... Happy holidays." 
> 
> I started sobbing again. Trey gave the TSA agents one
> last cold, steely gaze. 
> 
> 
> We turned and walked away. I smelled an Oscar. 
> 
> Now in the rest room, I faced impending doom once again.
> I picked through my bag and found the familiar plastic. I
> pulled it out, and miraculously MJ was still alive! 
> 
> Maybe it was God, maybe it was the corduroy, but someone
> wanted my fish to live. I then bought a doughnut from a
> coffee kiosk, placing MJ on the bottom of the paper bag I
> was given, and the pastry on top. Trey and I walked to
> the gate and checked in. A few passengers had witnessed
> our role in the La Guardia Christmas Security Spectacular
> and asked us what happened to the fish. We stuck to our
> story and told them it was gone. 
> 
> The flight was full. I sat between two fat men who seemed
> intrigued by the brown paper bag I gently cradled in my
> lap the whole flight. 
> 
> An hour and a half later, we were in Pittsburgh. We
> departed the people-mover, and ran one final time to the
> bathroom to see if MJ was OK, and he was. 
> 
> Absolutely amazing. Two terminals, baggage claim and a
> car ride later, I was at home. 
> 
> As I write this I sit with a cat in my lap and my fish,
> which I have aptly renamed X-ray, swimming contentedly in
> his glass-beaded bowl. And even though my actions may
> send Tom Ridge reeling and upset the karma of the
> Department of Homeland Security, I really don't care. 
> 
> Honestly, they have bigger fish to fry. 
> 
> 
>
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
> 
> (Lara Hayhurst, a graduate of North Allegheny Senior High
> School, is studying musical theater at Pace University in
> New York City (starlet300 at aol_com).)
> http://www.post-gazette.com/pg/03362/255283.stm
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> Aquatic-Plants at actwin_com
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=====
S. Hieber

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