So they want to blow up our plane mid-atlantic, eh? The news screamed at us a week before we were due to leave. The security would be tight, we’d be alright. No liquids on the plane and a small amount of hand luggage. Emily phoned. “Were we still coming?” “Of course we were”.

Gatwick was busy, very busy. We queued for this, we queued for that. The man in front had a bottle of clear liquid in his pocket. The swift hand of a security guard whipped it out like a pistol. “No liquids on the plane, Sir” Even the “Sir” sounded menacing. The man looked middle-eastern. “Go on, blow up his bag. It’s probably a bomb”.

“Take you shoes off”. A huge black lady hollared at me. Her shirt uniform was 2 sizes too small and she was sweating profusely. I had reached the security arch. “No, don’t carry them through the arch. Put them through the x-ray machine”. She was annoyed. She thought me an idiot. I felt like one, especially with no shoes on.

Another guard was rifling through my hand luggage. He, too was large, and he looked hungry. He pulled out my packet of mints with a smile. “I shall have to keep these”. I thought e might. Too bad if I develop halitosis on this flight.

We scanned the other passengers for potential terrorists. He has children. Another has a wife and maybe mother-in-law. Could you blow up your mother-in-law? Naa. Lucky number Slevin and the X-Men substituted fantasy terror for real-life terror. RV was just so funny.

Wait a minute. That young man, definitely Asian, sprouting a beard, looks shifty. No, that’s the pilot. Maybe an inside job? Nobody would intentionally blow themselves up. That would be insane… Detroit looks so pretty from the air. I bet it’s a really handsome city on the ground. What a relief when the plane touches down. Will it stop?

Plane to Pittsburgh. Everything is suddenly calm & relaxed. No thought of terrorism. The flight will be pleasant. After all, no planes are brought down by terrorists in peaceful Pennsylvania.

It’s dark by the time we get to Pittsburgh. We walk around the airport 3 times to find our bags. It’s alright The luggage claim by the back door. We could have walked in off the street and got them. It’s great in America. Everyone must be so honest and law-abiding. We like it here. No surprises.

Two thugs jump us from behind. My hand instinctively turns into a lethal, karate-chopping weapon. No need, it’s Emily and Drew. Hugs and kisses all round with abandon.

Then some more. I restrain myself from hugging a passsing cop. He might not like it. We’ve arrived. We’re in America!!!