Code Orange

This high-security stuff is starting to get on my nerves, especially at the micro, day-to-day level.

Every day I pick up my son from his after-school program, which is located in a large building filled with hundreds of children, from kindergarteners to high-schoolers. I have to pass a security desk in the lobby when I enter, which has never been a problem before. Today I was stopped, and a woman who has watched me pick up my son every weekday for over two years suddenly started speaking to me as if she'd never seen me before in her life: "Can I help you, sir?"

I always hate that pseudo-respectful "sir" business and insincere offer of "help."

Turns out I now have to get a pass from the main office (an orange pass) in order to enter the building.

Yesterday, I delivered a package of page proofs to a client of mine in Manhattan. Everywhere I went, it seems, from the station to street corners, I was stared at by guys wearing orange vests – because of the package, I presume.

I suppose it's all necessary, but it's still . . . disconcerting.

~~~

Quote of the Day

"There's sort of this constant assumption in America -- never spoken, but omnipresent, visible in almost every public space, if you pay attention -- that somebody, somewhere, is about to commit a crime, right this minute, and it might even be you." (from Bob's Travel Journal)