Terror in the sky

Some things in life were never meant to be put together. Garlic and icecream, Spandex^tm  and fried chicken, or Palin and common sense all come to mind. But of all the "don't put 'em togethers" out there... airplanes and open flames are right near the top. Few things in life will open the adrenalin floodgates more than smoke in the cabin of an airplane. Well... your seatmate spontaneously combusting is probably right up there... but that's simply a variation on the same theme. Spontaneous human combustion is almost always smokeless... but I digress.

 So it came as no surprise the other day when I saw a sign at the airport with pictures and words and braille (how does a blind person stumble onto a poster on a wall and realize he/she is supposed to fondle it?) explaining that if it has the word "fire" in it, you are not to bring it on the airplane. All very logical. To a point. But suppose I'm going to a firefighter's convention in Poughkipsi. Driving there is pointless because all roads lead out of Poughkipsi. So the only way in to Poughkipsi is flying. Now if I was bringing in a fire hydrant for a demonstration of Hydranting 101, fer instance, does this mean I am no longer welcome aboard? Of all the people on the planet, who better to cope with the combustive evil of oxygen enriched air in a small metal tube with an unlimited source of fuel and flame than a trained fire fighter with his very own (autographed) fire hydrant. Granted a source of water would be a nice addition to the equation, but I fail to see a downside here. Kick me to the curb? Just wait until your flaming wreckage lands in my back yard and you come crying and gnashing your teeth, begging me and my (autographed) hydrant to... well... hydrate the carnage. Which, incidentally, has landed on my swing set and flattened my petunias. And the cat's gone missing (but we're still not certain which side of the ledger that goes on.) Oh, and Miss Spotted down the road is enquiring about the chemical composition of the blue water that fell on her barbeque as it seems to have eaten through the stainless steel.

And what about fireflies? Fireflies have lives too, you know. What happens when they show up to the airport to go visit Uncle Jasper in Vernal (Utah) (remember Uncle Jasper? He's the one with 200 wives. When they get together to sing around the campfire the Vernal fire department is always on call. And Vern (of Vern's Vernal Veriety Store) always keeps a hundred or so firefly repair kits in stock because those campfires usually end in a drunken brawl with all the wives trying to put out each other's lights. )  Are we just going to turn them away because of some poor misguided clerical error that brands all "fires" with the same torch? (OK... that may be a bit insensitive. But for this story to get out there, someone's rights must be trodded down.)

 It's time we stopped this indiscriminant discrimination (what other kind could there be?) The world will be a more humane place once we take the time to think about aviation safety. Guns and ammo, I understand. But fire hydrants and fireflies have the right to Thanksgiving get togethers in Utah.