San Diego's Puff Daddy
I’ve made it all the way to Heathrow without anyone checking my ID or passport, an odd thing for the US these days. When leaving San Diego I did get a good introduction to the newest in airport security. Instead of walking through your typical run of the mill metal detector, our line got to enter a new contraption that appeared out of some science fiction movie. I’m sure the machine has some great name like the XP-186, but I don’t know what it is. I think I’ll just call it the “Puff Daddy”. You walk into a glass booth, almost like a phone booth, but open in the back, place your feet carefully on the footprints stare out the glass doors to the world beyond the security point that you’re hoping to reach before your plane departs.
Then PUFF, PUFF, PUFF, three blasts of air shoot up from the footprints and attempts to make you look like a Marilyn Monroe photograph. You then wait for what seems like an eternity for the light to turn green and the doors to open up before you. The whole procedure takes 18 seconds.
Since I had the pleasure of having the SSSS code on my boarding pass which I’m sure stands for Super Special Security Screening, I had some quality time with my neighborhood airport screener and learned the inside information on the Puff Daddy. On the far side of the glass doors I was escorted to a seat where they checked my bags, but even this wasn’t your typical search. In fact, the man couldn’t care less about what items I had, he was checking my dust. Literally.
“What is that new machine? And what are you doing with that small white cloth dusting my computer and bags?”
“We’re checking for explosives.”
As it turns out from my lesson (the dusting of my bags took some time and I had plenty to kill) the Puff Daddy blows air up to get the dust off of your body. It shoots up to the top of the machine where it analyzes it for whatever dust you would find on an explosive. It also is a metal detector and I’m sure it can guess your weight and age if you wait an extra few seconds. Then, my Super Special Security Screener uses the white rag to collect dust from my bags and runs it through a similar explosive dust detecting machine.
“There’s only a handful of these in the world right now, and this one was one of the first five. There isn’t more since they’re so expensive.”
“Who pays for these? The airports or the airlines?”
“Both. You know those obscene taxes they charge you these days to fly? This is where it goes. Actually, all the tax payers are paying for it, indirectly.”
“Why San Diego, at this obscure security gate in the most unused portion of the airport?”
“That’s because it takes so long. 18 seconds doesn’t seem like much, but when there’s a line, it seems like forever and we sure get a back up. London has one that’s’ even more advanced, but I’ve never come across anyone whose seen it.”
“Maybe I’ll be the first. I’ll be in Heathrow later today. Or is that tomorrow?” and with that my interview was done and I was off to find that Starbucks in the airport doesn’t do refills but that America West has rocking chairs at the departure gate.
And as I sat there rocking I wondered why a person with explosives just wouldn’t go to the other line, directly next to mine, where you don’t go through the Puff Daddy. Or down to the next security gate where there isn’t even a Puff Daddy around. Are people with bombs boarding planes not this smart? Or, do the security people really not care, they just want to have cool toys.
Then PUFF, PUFF, PUFF, three blasts of air shoot up from the footprints and attempts to make you look like a Marilyn Monroe photograph. You then wait for what seems like an eternity for the light to turn green and the doors to open up before you. The whole procedure takes 18 seconds.
Since I had the pleasure of having the SSSS code on my boarding pass which I’m sure stands for Super Special Security Screening, I had some quality time with my neighborhood airport screener and learned the inside information on the Puff Daddy. On the far side of the glass doors I was escorted to a seat where they checked my bags, but even this wasn’t your typical search. In fact, the man couldn’t care less about what items I had, he was checking my dust. Literally.
“What is that new machine? And what are you doing with that small white cloth dusting my computer and bags?”
“We’re checking for explosives.”
As it turns out from my lesson (the dusting of my bags took some time and I had plenty to kill) the Puff Daddy blows air up to get the dust off of your body. It shoots up to the top of the machine where it analyzes it for whatever dust you would find on an explosive. It also is a metal detector and I’m sure it can guess your weight and age if you wait an extra few seconds. Then, my Super Special Security Screener uses the white rag to collect dust from my bags and runs it through a similar explosive dust detecting machine.
“There’s only a handful of these in the world right now, and this one was one of the first five. There isn’t more since they’re so expensive.”
“Who pays for these? The airports or the airlines?”
“Both. You know those obscene taxes they charge you these days to fly? This is where it goes. Actually, all the tax payers are paying for it, indirectly.”
“Why San Diego, at this obscure security gate in the most unused portion of the airport?”
“That’s because it takes so long. 18 seconds doesn’t seem like much, but when there’s a line, it seems like forever and we sure get a back up. London has one that’s’ even more advanced, but I’ve never come across anyone whose seen it.”
“Maybe I’ll be the first. I’ll be in Heathrow later today. Or is that tomorrow?” and with that my interview was done and I was off to find that Starbucks in the airport doesn’t do refills but that America West has rocking chairs at the departure gate.
And as I sat there rocking I wondered why a person with explosives just wouldn’t go to the other line, directly next to mine, where you don’t go through the Puff Daddy. Or down to the next security gate where there isn’t even a Puff Daddy around. Are people with bombs boarding planes not this smart? Or, do the security people really not care, they just want to have cool toys.
posted by Karen at
6:00 AM
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