May 27, 2008
We took Oz to NYC over the long weekend, stayed in midtown, and did tourist things with him — went to the Museum of Modern Art, Central Park, the Museum of Natural History, 
and even the Statue of Liberty. Theresa and I have both of course been there for both business and recreation plenty of times (hey, the Albany area is really just NYC’s most northern ‘burb), but this was the first true tourist trip to show Oz.
He actually liked MoMA the best, interestingly. As I’ve noted (see High Cultcha), we went through a little period of being interested in artists and their works, and so (given the slightly prodigious memory) his recollection and recognition of art works and artist from the modern period is probably at least as good as mine. (For example: He’s probably slightly better than I am at judging who the artist is when presented with a previously-unseen-by-him work by an artist he knows.)
But the most bizarre part of the trip for me was going to see the Statue of Liberty (which I had never done before). Not interesting so much because of the statue, but because of the crazy amount of security screening we needed to go through. So, after a very long wait in a very long line waiting to get on the Liberty Island ferry, we went through airplane-level security — pockets emptied, bags searched, belts, off, and the whole thing. Seemed a bit excessive, but I guess we’re all just were a little numb from doing it for air travel these days. So, onto the ferry, over to Liberty Island.
We have passes to get into the pedestal (no tourists up into the actual statue body any more), and sure enough, 
another long line, ending in another airport-level security check, but notched up a bit more — the walk-through scanners have the air blasts that blow all over your clothes to expose hidden things, you can’t bring any drinks along (even bottled water), and at this stage, my over-the shoulder sling pack is deemed too big, and so I’m sent to the lockers to stow it before we get in.
When I get to the lockers, it’s not some old-fashioned key or combination lock thing, but the new high-tech gadget where you go to a screen and have them scan your fingerprint for ID to get your stuff out of the locker when you leave. No kidding. So I’m totally not happy with this. I have, to the best of my knowledge, managed to keep my fingerprints “out of the system” for this long — no arrests or high-security jobs that would require fingerprinting — and although I’m not actually entering my name along with it, I’m still pretty displeased with this. So, I intentionally smudge and change fingers in the middle of the process, and sure enough, after two full misfires, I’m given the option to manually enter a PIN code instead of using the biometrics.* I happily do this, and we’re finally on our way in, only, oh, two hours delayed by the whole thing.
I feel so much safer now.
* If you are an agent of the Department of Homeland Security, let me say: “I am just kidding about this. I would never do anything to in any way circumvent or undermine the systems that have put in place to protect our nation and its landmarks against terrorist activities.”
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