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A few weeks ago I wrote to you about my adventures in travel while escaping the panic that was London after the terror scare. Consider this the postscript.

I’m composing this on my BlackBerry from the back seat of a taxi in Toronto. This is the first time I’ve traveled since London. That return trip from London to Austin took 38 hours. In hour 35 of that process I learned that you are special when you receive an “SSSS” designation on your boarding pass like I did in Chicago. I like to think that SSSS stands for “Super Secret Silly Security” but the bleary-eyed TSA agent didn’t seem to agree.

Like most of you, I know that liquids are now strictly verboten in your carry on luggage. Like some of you I’ve also wondered what kind of ramification that would have on liquid purchasing, movement, and consumption through airports and airplanes in general. I awoke at 3:30 this morning to find out.

I don’t actually remember my insanely early drive to the airport, but I’m fairly certain I managed it since I’m writing this to you now. I’m staying only one night in Toronto, so I don’t have much in the way of luggage. After dutifully checking my tiny overnight bag that contains all my threatening liquids, aerosols, gels, and creams (another TSA employee informed me that “deoderant is OK”), I continued my routine and went to the food nook in the airport that pumps out breakfast tacos. Those of you not from Texas may not be aware of the breakfast taco, but I think McDonalds is starting to figure it out, so you may be exposed to a plastic facsimile of it soon. Anyway, I picked up a couple of tacos, a bottle of orange juice, and headed to the gate. At the gate I was surprised to learn, via ceiling-mounted loudspeaker, that passengers would not be allowed to bring threatening liquids, aerosols, gels, and creams onto the airplane, even if they were purchased at the airport. The same helpful loudspeaker went on to encourage me and the other passengers to finish our orange juices, dispose of the remains before boarding the flight, and to have a nice day. The combined look of surprise, confusion, and irritation on the face of the woman in mid-drink from a large water bottle was priceless. I’m sure I maintained my usual calm and collected expression. I power-slammed my orange juice (see Mom, I knew those college drinking skills would come in handy one day). The poor woman across the aisle merely stood up in disgust, threw her barely-touched $8.10 bottle of water into the trash, and stormed onto the plane. As I was boarding, I noticed a hastily posted paper sign on the gate door explaining the new policy. The funny part? It refered to the airplane as “the sterile area.”

I’m fairly certain that I’m not the only one to notice the ever-expanding ridiculousness of “the war on terror.” My question is: Do the people who come up with this stuff realize the ridiculousness, or do they really believe that these things are making Americans safer? Is this stuff a cynical attempt to distract the public into believing that something is being done to protect them, or is it just the flailing actions of a bloated, ineffective bureaucracy? I tend to favor the latter, but sometimes — especially when I watch the manipulations of Dick “torture is good” Cheney — I wonder if the former isn’t to blame.

But all speculation aside, one thing is for sure: Gatorade doesn’t explode when it’s safely tucked in the checked baggage in the hull of a passenger plane.