According to today’s standards, I must look at that “thing” and not judge it by its appearance. “Why, don’t you know, dear brother, you might offend it and give it some kind of an insecurity complex?” How do I know but that duck in front of me will be offended by me calling it a duck? It is the epitome of insensitivity for me to assume that I have the right to call a duck a duck. Who knows, that particular duck might think it is a dog. After all, a quack is not that far from a bark.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, confusion reigns.
During the last year, I have spent a little bit of time flying from here to there. And the security at these airports defies the intelligence God gave a termite. Going through the line I have to take off my belt, remove my shoes (which come very close to a stink bomb), empty all the pens out of my pocket and submit myself to a body search. Now, they have some kind of electronic gizmo that enables them to see through my clothes. In 10th grade, I dreamed of such a gadget and I am a little provoked it has taken them so long to perfect this.
Two years ago, I traveled from Orlando, Fla., to Manila, Philippines, through Japan and back again to Orlando. The trip was fine until I tried to re-enter the United States and upon a luggage search, they discovered I had one of those old-fashioned double blade razors. It was something of an antique that my grandfather gave me 35 years ago. I had been using it to shave ever since. After all these years of shaving with it, it took the intelligence of some security officer to discover this was a highly dangerous weapon. Consequently, I was not allowed to enter the country with it.