A security checkpoint in Portland, Ore. (Natalie Behring/GETTY IMAGES)

I see now that if you’re 75 or older, or 12 or younger, you no longer have to remove your shoes to prove that you’re not a security threat. Who came up with those parameters? Are there are lot of 74-year-olds who still are shoe-removal candidates? And how do you know that someone 71 isn’t just pretending to be 75? Does the security agent ask to see some ID? I hope that when I’m 75 and boldly walk through the checkpoint with my shoes on they card me. Because not only do I still look young at 75, I still look dangerous.

Every year the radius in which a destination is more preferably reached driving rather than flying grows longer. I have to go to Ohio soon, and could get there faster by plane, but the indignities of air travel make the long road trip more attractive. While I’m driving I can listen to good music. I can follow the news on NPR even in remote mountain hollows. I can read the paper. I can groom myself in the mirror and try to rearrange the flesh on my face and neck to more appropriate positions. I can nap in moderation (cruise control helps, I have found).

Ooops, they’ve ordered us to shut down our electronics. Another indignity. Gotta fly.