Your papers, please

In August, Lucky and I went to Monterey, California, to visit our dad. We had an amazing time driving the coastal highway through Big Sur, picnicking on a friend’s private beach and cooking like the three of us were still the big Italian family we grew up with. But it wasn’t all just for a lark. My dad’s been sick since last fall, though he didn’t tell us until recently, and all of us are starting to think about the impending “future.” Lucky and I saw my dad in a new light this time: no longer entirely the Pacino-channeling, devastatingly charming, problem-fixing free spirit we grew up with, the man who met us at the door this time was a little too thin, with pure white hair and a big smile that caught me off guard with its open expression of joy at our arrival. In many ways, I like this man better. He’s mortal at last, which probably clears the road for both Lucky and I to look at ourselves and the people we choose in a more realistic way. And even if you’re not into psychoanalysis (sadly, I think it might be a blossoming obsession of my own middle age), it was so nice to be able to really talk to him without the layers of external image that have previously defined him for us.

We traveled on relatively short notice, so to save almost $200 per ticket we chose to land in San Jose, then rent a car and drive the 90 minutes to Monterey. For those who’ve never experienced the pleasure of SJC firsthand (though I should note that a renovation is underway), the terminal is the size of a postage stamp and equally useful to air travelers. There’s one bathroom past the secured area – and by that I mean ONE unisex, one-toilet bathroom serving hundreds of people at all times. There’s no place past security to buy water or anything else (and as in airports everywhere, you can’t bring it in with you); there’s one tiny “food court” near the main entrance and it’s a fairly long bus ride to the understaffed rental car building. Needless to say, the security lines were looong, winding the equivalent of several city blocks when we entered the queue to catch our ride back to Milwaukee. We had plenty of time to chat up our fellow travelers, but when the novelty of that wore off after about five minutes, I daringly made eye contact with an attractive black woman in a sharp navy blazer and impossibly well-tailored khakis. She was in a kiosk, positioned under a sign that read “Now You Can Fly Through Airport Security.”

The woman was stylishly hawking Clear, a pay service that allows member travelers to expedite airport security checks by whisking through Clear’s own “designated security lane with special benefits,” bypassing the teeming masses and leaving plenty of time to make gratuitous cell phone calls at the gate while waiting for everyone else. Still, doesn’t it sound nice to not languish in the smelly, snail-like security line, to be somebody special? With my computer bag threatening to break my shoulder and my general dislike of being surrounded by people I don’t know, I thought so. I let the pretty lady gently press a brochure into my hand, then stuck it in my bag and forgot about it until I unpacked. Seeing it again, I was a little irritated by Clear’s existence (the intoxicating effects of the pretty lady having worn off). We’re currently spending over $35 billion per year on homeland security, I thought, but for $99.95 any Joe can buy his way out of the associated hassle? I had to know exactly how it worked, so I did a little digging, and what I found made me laugh until I shivered.

Here’s the deal: when you sign up for the service and pay your membership fee, you also agree to a full background check by the TSA, who takes both your thumbprint and a scan of your retina for identity verification. If you pass muster, you are issued both a Clear card and a government ID card. At the special Clear security gate, you put each card into a machine and stick your eye and thumb out for electronic inspection, then pass through the “Clear Lane,” which is shorter and calls its staff “concierges” instead of transportation security officers. The TSA conducts periodic checks of Clear members and as long as you’re “in good standing” you can renew annually. What the literature downplays is that you still have to get your boarding pass and check your large bags the standard way. It also downplays the fact that though Clear currently operates in just a handful of airports (but with more being added all the time), their larger plan is to become the de facto ID card for entry into airports, office buildings, sports stadiums and other high-traffic public venues everywhere.

Can anyone say “Privatized Real ID?” Think about that the next time you’re pretending things haven’t changed all that much.

People can foresee the future only when it coincides with their own wishes, and the most grossly obvious facts can be ignored when they are unwelcome.
—George Orwell.