I did as I usually do—tossed my red and black, well-worn backpack onto the conveyor belt, watching it disappear into the TSA scanner. I walked with my stocking feet into the bad-human-detector and waited for the security agent to declare me safe for flight.
With the world in crisis mode, most travel and flying has come to a near freeze. And I had not traveled in six months. Many aspects of flying have changed. If you enjoy a middle-seat (anybody?), you’ll just have to settle for a row or an aisle. Flight crews exude an extreme kindness, possibly a symptom of gratitude to be working right now. All airlines require passengers to wear face masks constantly. Snacks and in-flight service no longer resemble the delightful array of cookies and coffee that I love so much. But most importantly, TSA security screening lines no longer filter out the door and down the road. My wife and I waited for a mere 5 minutes at the Detroit Metropolitan Wayne County Airport. The benefits and drawbacks to the changes in flying weigh about the same.
I peered into the scanner and watched my bag pass through the opening and be quickly spirited away by one of the agents. Most of the time I don’t have any trouble. I have this security stuff down to a science. But occasionally I bring something slightly strange that results in undue attention—a bag of wild rice, coffee from Malaysia, or several pounds of solid copper.
You know, the usual stuff.
But I had no idea what could be setting them off today. The agent looked at the monitor then back to the bag, opening it. Curious, I leaned in slowly and glanced at the screen. A rectangular blob sat nestled deeply in my bag, bricklike.
I snorted.
He withdrew my threatening object: my worn and heavy copy of Les Misérables.
“Huh,” laughed the agent, “I’ve never read it. Is it any good?”
We chatted a little as I repacked my bag. The book is nearly 1,500 pages long and literally resembles a brick. No wonder it set off their scanner.
I do some of my best reading on the plane or in the airport. What else is there to do? Sure, I could look at my cellphone or watch a movie on the back of the seat in front of me. And I often do those things. But when the noise overwhelms me and I bore of screen time, I pop in a pair of earplugs and can read for hours.
I cannot begin to describe Les Misérables. But I will say that Victor Hugo’s impactful novel has been hugely important to me. I finished it in six months and six days, at 9:15 on a Saturday evening.
anthony forrest
