We took Delta to NYC on 9/11.  That’s 9-1-1!

Even so, my first trip through the body scanner felt invasive.  Everything in the pockets had to be removed, even paper.

I stepped between two vertical black vertical panels, placed my feet on the marks, handed the man my boarding pass, put my hands over my head, fingers arranged just-so in a heart-shaped position.  Then I held still as instructed by the MAN!  I asked about that.  He assured me that a woman, hidden in the back somewhere, viewed the image.

Moving forward, I stood on a rubber mat, feet apart as indicated by the graphic, and waited for the woman to get a report on my body in her earbud.  She patted down my sides and back.  The heavy band on my jeans was the problem, I suppose, since she seemed to focus her attention there.  She didn’t say.

Steve went through the old-fashioned metal detector.  When I inquired, my GUARD said, “We can’t create a line.”

I moved off to collect my belongings and put on my shoes.  My boarding pass was missing.  I asked the MAN.  He pointed to a young traveler who held it in her hand.  He had given it to her in error.



The landing at LaGuardia was exciting.  We flew in over the water, took a chilling dive, hit the runway with a thud, then screeched to a rapid stop, as if the pilot was laying on the breaks.  The young Chinese woman sitting next to me let out a little scream and turned pale.


The Apple Store on Fifth Avenue!  Good grief, Charlie Brown.

The entry is a ground level, glass atrium with a spiral stairway leading down to the sales floor.  The design provides the necessary ambiance and lighting.  I stood in line for an hour to satisfy my latest case of iWant and left with an iPhone 4.

I think it’s the prettiest, busiest BASEMENT I ever visited.  Give the city folks credit.  They know how to use space.


Oh, the phone was defective.  The plain, little Apple Store in the Town Center Mall cheerfully replaced it.  Cool.

Steve is now using my old iPhone.  It seems iWant is a contagious condition.