Posted tagged ‘Airports’

HELPLESS AND ANGRY

March 28, 2017

(Guess I”m writing this post  from out of extreme anger. Don’t read on if you don’t like XXX situations.    Just skip if you’re feeling comfortable.)

bar-thorns

What has happened to Americans?

I had written and collected photos for this story earlier today and put it in my “writing queue,”  saving it for when I’m a little less angry about it.     But then on our local TV news I saw a short article about the story . . . .   Sanitized.  Like this was a one-off incident.   Nothing to worry about.

The local TV news didn’t tell much of the story.

travel by car

I love to travel.   I’m already mentally planning my summer trip, cross-country again.       I would love to travel to Scandinavia, where my grandparents came from,  and to Portugal this year for the 100th anniversary of the events in Fatima, Portugal.

Cooper, my little grandson,   is actually in Portugal right now this week,  but Mommy and Daddy don’t’ know much about Fatima – so . . .  well, maybe they can be tourists in some of the big cathedrals there in Lisbon.

I would love to travel there too.  I have the time,  the means,  the interest, and about 60% of my health –  but I can’t go to Europe.  I can’t fly.    I won’t fly.

Not until and unless they remove the GYNECOLOGICAL-GESTAPO-WOMEN  from the airports.    I’ve  had two bad experiences;  two bad traumatic experiences,  which occasionally still visit me in the middle of the night when I’m half asleep.    And I’m feeling tense and wary now as I write this.

There was no brother/husband/father/son  nearby to protect me from what can only be called an obscene gynecological exam by a large woman who stared into my eyes the whole time, challenging me to object.

She waited.  travel handcuffs

She had all-power over me.   And she smirked.

The second woman in the other airport didn’t even smirk during her deep thrusts.

 

trav uniforms

 

(Oh.  wait a minute.    You don’t have to wear uniforms in an airport.)

 

My family, who all fly,  deny any remarkable mistreatment.    But one day the issue was raised in my Book Club, and I was shocked to hear the degree of  anger from these women as they reported being obscenely mishandled at airports.    I couldn’t bring myself to speak up . . . .

So.  you may have seen today’s  story too:

1 Begins in crotch

 

The video was taken  by his shocked mother who said the “inspection” lasted about 17 minutes.   The airport officials say 2 minutes.  I watched it for about 10 minutes.    I watched that man rub slowly every square inch of that boy’s shirt,  over and over again,  slowly,  up and down —  and then go back for a second round,  fondling and rubbing the body under that shirt.

Then he moved on to the crotch.    And rubbed and thrust and massaged and petted  . . . .

2 closeup went to crotch a second time

The boys crotch is being moved upwards.      This is not a “pat- down with the back of the hand”  like the airport says.       This is what a pervert does to stimulate himself.

The guy straightened up for a while,  then took a step forward and went back for a second round.

Then he worked the front of the crotch area.

3 working that crotch

 

The boy was supposed to keep his arms out of the way and not move them,  not even to protect himself.

You know,  when I was a teacher,  I taught my little kids about Friendly touch and Unfriendly Touch;   never let a stranger touch you in your private places.    Call for help.   Fight back until help comes.

 

trav inspec tor

But if they wear a uniform,  we are supposed to obey.

4th time at crotch

The guy moved his blue-gloved hand so that he could apply MORE PRESSURE onto the boy’s crotch.   This is his fourth approach to the boy’s crotch.

The man left and  another uniformed man came by,  and then this first man went BACK to the boy for a fifth go at it.

5 left and came back

Working that crotch area.

Do “big boys”  not cry?    Do grown men accept this as part of some weird male ritual –  it’s just “what happens”  sometimes?     in the “gym” ?    in the YMCA?

This is a boy with   some sort of “sensitivity stimulation”  difficulty, a heightened sensitivity to stimuli around him to the point where he is officially,  medically disabled and  who  was  manhandled by a pervert in an airport, Dallas, I think.    His mother was traumatized;  she reports that it took a long time to calm her son down and try to explain to him that he didn’t do anything wrong.

And then she posted her video.

The airport is  “looking into it,”  but deny any wrongdoing.

Today’s  “warriors”  wear soft business suits and will smooth over the legal aspects.    That’s how they will solve it.

Did you notice the American flag in the background of the photos?    Das Vaterland!   I mean,  Das “Homeland.”   When did that start?   Submit for your own good.   Submit so we will make you safe.

What has happened to Americans?

bar-thorns

No wonder this flag has been banned on campuses –

flag-dont-tread

 

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FUN WITH TRISKAIDEKAPHOBIA

January 13, 2017

(Traveling  anywhere today?  Avoiding ladders and black cats? )

I wasn’t sure if this was Fake News or not.  You know,  “click bait.”     But I was finished with the news and thought I’d have a little fun.  At the Daily Mail!   –  always an entertaining, sometimes informative place to visit (as long as you don’t “look to the right”!)

So, here’s a screen shot from FlightAware of a passenger flight today —

flight

Copenhagen to Helsinki, on Finnish Airways.   Flight # 666.   On Friday the Thirteenth.  Going to  HEL, according to the flight controllers.     (That would be: Helsinki.)     It took off at fifteen minutes past noon.  That would be the thirteenth hour of the day;  13:15

Oh,  and the airplane itself is 13 years old!

How fun!

I didn’t really really trust the Daily Mail article so I went to FlightAware and looked it up myself.  Here’s the info from that page,  just after it landed:

Finnair 666
FIN666 / AY666
Arrived 37 minutes ago
Terminal 2

We redesigned our Flight Page. Check out the updated features!
 
 
CPH Copenhagen, Denmark
HEL Vantaa, Finland
left Terminal 2 Copenhagen – CPH
arrived at  Terminal 2
Helsinki-Vantaa – HEL
Friday 13-Jan-2017 01:07PM CET
(8 minutes early)

Guess it made it —  and early too!

Those Finns!

Hubbie would be proud.

 

 

LOST — AND FOUND

October 22, 2013

My last posting was called Bias to the Normal.   Normal, my foot!    Nothing about the last 48 hours has been normal!

LOST

A mother goes berserk when her son is lost.    I knew the flight pattern that would take him from The Netherlands to his home.   I posted a screen shot of it in that last posting.  I knew how long it would take him to drive home after that.     But he didn’t arrive.

And for the next 24 hours or so,  absolutely no one knew where he was.    No communication with him.     Nothing.

Nothing but a very overactive imagination on my part.   I imagined a whole lot of things that could happen to him.     Hour by hour by hour. . . .

When frantic frequent prayers brought no results I turned to —

SAMSUNGYeah. . . .I opened up a brand-new picture puzzle.    I had to do something to stop pacing and start breathing again.    Did nearly the whole puzzle that day.

At a certain time, I turned to that most meditative of prayers and lost myself in the Gospel story for about twenty minutes.    You know the part about Our Lady “losing”  her son Jesus for a few days in Jerusalem?    I nearly lost it there, but I can say I now understand.  I understand.  I understand this Fifth Joyful Mystery.

FOUND

When Son finally appeared at my door,  I felt like a robot;  couldn’t move.    There was the reality standing before me.   I had had him kidnapped and murdered;  jailed;  mugged and bonked on the head;    sick and unable to identify himself;    in Pago Pago after having gotten on the wrong plane with no way of getting back;    detained and lost forever by Airport “Security”;     chopped up and buried someplace after a fight in Detroit over his beautiful black GTO which had been waiting for him….

Well, I was right to worry about one of those things.   Son came in and sat down and proceeded to talk, non-stop, for the next few hours.

After two missed flights – (TWO!   have you ever heard of anyone missing two flights in a row?)  –    and I’ll spare you all the details, all the roadblocks that the world seemed to throw in front of this young man —  he finally arrived, once again, at the airport looking rather unkempt,  very much lacking in sleep,  hungry,  agitated,  hot and sweaty,  unable to focus on anything except hoping to get  on the plane.

Now imagine that you’re  Airport Security and you have someone standing in front of you who looks agitated, unfocused, sweat running down his face,  impatient with questioning,  all  alone,  can’t find his baggage claim ticket to prove he had checked some baggage –  and he looks like a Viking –  tall, blond, blue-eyed, and muscular…..and he claimed to have no problem with all the extra money this is costing him…..and he didn’t connect with all the questions…..

Miraculously,  they let him on the plane.  Miraculously,  he was not “flagged” when he landed in America.  MIraculously,  he made it home.

I asked him one question.   About when was it that you were being questioned by the authorities?    I didn’t say anything then,  but his answer told me that it was at the same period of time that I had my rosary in my hand.

Who says working a good picture puzzle can’t calm you down enough — so that you can then think to do the right thing!!!!

Deo gratias.