I am traveling light; 1 carry-on, 1 check-in and a camera dangling from my neck. The shuttle picks my sleepy ass up after only 4 hours sleep and one cup of coffee. It's 5:18 am and still dark outside. We make one other stop, a couple climbs aboard dressed in shorts and Looney Tunes t-shirts. They are excruciatingly chipper and I bet Anaheim is their final destination or maybe even Florida, either way I wonder how cold it is going to be in Newark, NJ when I land.
The ticket lines are light and before I know it I am stripping in front of security, taking off my shoes, belt and jacket. I empty my pockets filling up dull, grey plastic bins with my junk. The intercom sedately announces that we are at “threat level orange,” and I am terrified for a minute, even more so because I don’t know what orange means. I guess red would be worse and something cool, soothing like blue or green would be safer, but how safe? I drift off and start to daydream about lying on my back, in a pool of clear blue water, staring up at the sky on a nice sunny day. I am picking out cumulus shapes that look like elephants and Barry Bonds when suddenly it’s my turn at the x-ray machine. I am standing there with no shoes, holding my boarding pass and an apple. The TSA employee stops me and motions at my apple. I say “I have to scan my apple?” and she nods. I ask how a piece of fruit can be dangerous. She doesn’t respond. I throw my apple in the trash. Oh well breakfast can wait.
