no-fly list

I've made the no-fly list. Or rather, my name has. After my recent post on my dispersed, uncertain, and fragmented identity on the web, followed by my research into other versions of "me" (i.e., other people with my name), finding out last Friday that my name was on the "no-fly list" was quite odd. (Which one of the "other versions of me" is a bad person? How fitting is it that I would have such problems given that my father's name is William Wilson, which is also the title of a tale by Poe about a man killed by his double? And given what I've been working on for the last one hundred billion years academically?) Thankfully, the woman* who checked me in at the Continental desk at Blue Grass Airport (apparently automated check-in is not an option for personae non gratae such as myself) informed me that the name was not actually "me," since the birthdates didn't match. When I flew back from Boston yesterday, the personnel at Logan Airport said nothing. (Is that because Logan is more up to date, more with it, than Blue Grass, or is it because it's a bigger airport and more gets through? Do I really want the answer?)

So as if I didn't know that I wasn't a terrorist, I got confirmation at the airport of this very fact! Who knew traveling could be not just edifying and educational and blah-blah-blah, but also so self-affirming? Now I just have to confirm my identity (am I doing this for the government or for me?) with the TSA and I'll be set. That should resolve any lingering questions about my pacifism, distaste for violence and hatred of weapons, and maybe even more: maybe through this entire process we'll all learn a little more about ourselves and what it means--yesterday, today, and, yes, even tomorrow--about being an American, about being one small individual organism on this big marble we like to call Mother Earth. (Or at least I can get my boarding pass faster and without having to talk to another person.)

More on questions of identity (and on Boston) soon. (How can I work this into my teaching . . . oh yeah, it'll work well in Hum 120. Maybe I can even develop a form like the TSA's [see below] for my students to confirm their identities . . . something like the business of ID required for the LSAT that I helped administer last week. Or maybe a special passport: one stamp for the successful completion of each level of the course, which begins, more or less, in hell, by the way.)

*This woman, who apparently does everything for Continental in Lexington--she was dressed to direct planes outside, and we saw her on the "jetway" taking oversized carry-ons from silly people who think any flight from Lexington might be large enough to meet airline or human specs for comfort or baggage storage, was our saving grace, as the woman dressed to actually run the ticket desk told me that my reservation must be cancelled, because it couldn't be found in the automated system. When the woman who helped me actually used the computer staff has access to (instead of just trying the automated system again and again--was the first woman a robot or something?), she found my name and handed me my boarding passes in seconds. She also told me what the problem was and handed me a TSA "Passenger Identity Verification Form" (along with TSA info on this form) to confirm my identity. Thank goodness for Teddy Kennedy! By the way, via the TSA website, you can sign up to get email alerts about changes in "Homeland Security" status, if nothing else so you'll know what color to wear (or better, what NOT to wear)!