Bon Voyage

In the past, when I would pull out my suitcase to pack for a trip, my dog Molly would start moping around. She would continue to pout, even after my return, until the evil thing was unpacked and stored away out of her sight. The worst was when Mark and I both were leaving, because Mark insists on packing as if he were a wealthy dowager leaving for a six month cruise to Europe on the Queen Mary. Chandler hasn't experienced us packing up and leaving him behind yet, so he won't mind if I take my time packing for my trip to Palm Springs, California, to visit Dennis.

I am mightily confused by What the TSA (Transportation Security Administration) will allow me to take with me in my carry-on bag. I have gone to the TSA web site and I am very relieved to see that meat cleavers and hand grenades are not allowed, but I can bring a seven inch long screwdriver with me into the airplane cabin. I am pretty sure that a box cutter, which isn't allowed, has only a half inch or less blade on it, yet a seven inch screwdriver, which I have clumsily stabbed myself with in the past, is just waved on through. I feel safer already.

The last time I traveled, the TSA confiscated my brand new can of shaving cream, and my Almay Gel deodorant. I understand why this is. A terrorist could easily attack the pilot, squirting shaving cream into his eyes, while simultaneously jamming a stick of deodorant down his throat. Of course the way the terrorist would get into the cockpit would be by unscrewing the hinges on the door with his seven inch screwdriver.

I should be writing my stories of the glories of California by next Wednesday. In the meantime, I have a cute video for tomorrow, and who knows, I might post a couple of photos of my trip while I'm out in California, so check back.