Trip through airport security was a hair-raising reminder
I have never been so concerned about my hair gel than I was last
weekend as my family prepared for a quick, three-day trip to Oregon
to visit my grandparents.
It’s not that grandma would care what my hair looks like
– she’s not that shallow. It’s that I didn’t know how to keep my
gel supply to less than three ounces, the limit for such products
when they are transported in carry-on baggage.
Trip through airport security was a hair-raising reminder
I have never been so concerned about my hair gel than I was last weekend as my family prepared for a quick, three-day trip to Oregon to visit my grandparents.
It’s not that grandma would care what my hair looks like – she’s not that shallow. It’s that I didn’t know how to keep my gel supply to less than three ounces, the limit for such products when they are transported in carry-on baggage.
Just slopping it into a plastic sandwich bag would be weird and suspicious. Keeping it in its original container could raise red flags at the security gate and cause me to be X-rayed and prodded and patted down. Or, as my wife suggested, I could just – heaven forbid – not bring the gel and buy some in Oregon.
That solution was too easy, so I looked at the gel container, noticed that it was six ounces and was less than half full, and decided to try my luck. I figured that if I got pulled out of line by some scary-looking Transportation Security Administration employee I could justify that I was indeed carrying less than the federal limit of hair gel because the container was less than half full.
As I was waiting in line at the San Jose Airport, with my sons in tow and my mom, my sister and her family right next to us, I started wondering if I was going to make us miss our flight.
I could just hear an agent saying, “Sir, please step away from the gel and walk thorough our body-imaging machine.” I wasn’t hiding any gel anywhere else. I was blatantly wearing it on my head to create the spiky look.
Would my family vouch for me if I was arrested for transporting too much hair product? Would they visit me in the San Jose Airport’s holding cell, if there is one? Would I get a phone call so I could call my wife and tell her she was right all along?
Alas, as my backpack went through the X-ray machine and I walked shoe-less and belt-less through the security gate, my gel did not raise any red flags and I knew then that it would continue to raise my hair to its spiky glory throughout the weekend.
But that was just half the trip. I still had to make it back through security at the Portland Airport. Who knew if the Oregon security screeners would cast a wary eye at this Californian with his need for hair products?
As we wound through the long security screening line as we prepared to return home, I was more confident that my gel container would pass through this time. My supply was two days lighter, so it had to be even farther under the federal limits.
When we entered the airport, my son pointed out the sign noting that day’s terror alert level. As the line snaked along, a TSA agent suddenly yelled out something and all movement in the airport stopped as her fellow agents started yelling as well.
Apparently someone had walked off with a bag or left a bag behind or somehow didn’t follow the screening procedure. We all froze for a moment as the agents quickly rectified the situation and let everyone move again within a minute of the alert. It was like a game of red light-green light. It was a bit disconcerting, but comforting at the same time.
I appreciate and understand the heightened airport security measures. They are an inconvenience but a necessary one. Travelers like my mom, who routinely gets pulled out of line for screening because she has some odd-looking lipstick case in her bag or a half-empty bottle of cough syrup, have come to expect delays when they are entering an airport.
Perhaps the person who triggered the alert was carrying four ounces of hair gel. They were probably a narcissistic Californian. Whatever the reason, I was glad to witness the security procedures in action.
My hair is important to me, especially since I still have enough to spike up, but it’s not as important as a sense of safety. A hair-raising trip through airport security reminded me that hair-raising gel isn’t that important in the grand scheme of things.
Adam Breen writes a blog at http://thebreenblog.blogspot.com and teaches newspaper and journalism classes at San Benito High School. He is a reporter for The Pinnacle and former editor of the Free Lance.
