Goodbye to goo

Today we went to the Seatac airport to pick up my brother and sister-in-law. After hacking our way through aimless, twisting lines of triple-screened outbound passengers, we reported to the new TSA passenger arrival station to retrieve our relatives.

They handed us two sacks of dust, since all goo and liquids had been shop-vac'd from their bodies back at a security checkpoint in California. I can't even be sure that the sacks of dust contained the complete sandy remnants of my own relatives, and not just an amalgam of powdered passengers slapped into burlap bags by guys named Chad who make $7 an hour to keep our skies safe from shoe bombers and box cutter bogeymen. Wish us luck.