What A Morning

Things got jumping fast today. I did an appearance on the Lou and Round Guy Show on KGGO here in Des Moines. I hadn't seen these guys for a while and we had a good time on the air. Round Guy is a former comic who looks like his name would suggest. He and I were working together years ago in Indiana and I had the distinct displeasure of seeing him in his tighty whiteys. Not being a shy fellow, Roundy then spent the rest of the morning lounging in nothing more than his undies, to the complete discomfort of myself and the other comic in the condo. Thank God he kept his pants on this morning.

Even in Iowa, my thoughts are never far from home. I read on line that a guy had managed to wander onto the runway at Midway airport and stroll around for a bit. He was finally corralled after a pilot on an approaching flight and a guy in the tower saw him taking his afternoon constitutional. When they questioned him, the happy wanderer said that he had been drinking and wasn't quite sure how he got onto the runway. That makes two of us.

I was under the impression that security was being tightened at airports. Maybe that's only if you try to come in through the doors. Apparently if you want access, you just have to walk up to the service gate, make truck sounds with your mouth and the minimum wage dropouts we've entrusted with our safety will wave you through. I bet if you put your arms out like wings, they'll load you up with food too.

This is in stark contrast to the law abiding passengers that try to gain access to their flight. Some drunk, mullet wearing hump can walk right onto a runway, but I end up in gynecologist stirrups while some dunder head in a minor's helmet conducts a cavity search on me because I wanted to give myself a manicure on the plane. Our focus seems a little off. I'm sick of taking off my shoes, removing my belt and bending over for these idiots. They don't know what they're looking for any more than I do. Just once, ask why you got picked out for a search. Captain America will look down at the floor, shuffle his feet and say something brilliant like, "I dunno, it's random." I'll sleep better tonight all secure in the knowledge that guys who failed the postal exam are keeping me safe. Later...Brian