If we are truly waging a War on Terror, why are airline passengers called upon to be human shields?

This weekend I had to fly across the country on a family matter. Security lines, surprisingly, weren’t that bad. I think last week’s foiled terrorist plot had something to do with my delay getting out of JFK, though — flight delayed by more than an hour, and a line of 150 people being served by overly punctilious ticket agents who weren’t letting anyone use the self-check-in kiosks.

I decided to check my bag because after years of searching I’ve finally found the perfect waxy hair stuff that makes my hair lie down, and I wasn’t going to look bad in front of relatives I see every ten years. So I do blame the airlines and the Transportation Safety Administration for what happened next: They lost my bag.

This had never happened to me before, though I’ve flown enough that it should have. But I couldn’t get over the thought that if the Feds hadn’t overreacted to some crazy Brits with explosive liquids, I would have carried that bag on. (I’d go on about what a stupid policy this liquids ban is, but Yglesias got there first.)

It was just one more indignity added to the long list of Man’s Inhumanity to Airline Passengers. The thing about taking off your shoes is preposterous. One guy who was clearly mentally unbalanced tried to set his shoe on fire and suddenly we all have to risk contracting athlete’s foot or falling and breaking a hip while we struggle to get our shoes on and off while keeping the line moving.

The of course there’s the disappearing airline meal. Nobody actually liked the airline food they used to give us, I realize, but being offered a box of crackers and cheese for movie-theater prices on a five-hour flight is nothing if not a slap in the face. And with the new restrictions on liquids, you can’t even bring a bottle of water on board, making you wholly reliant on the whims of “beverage service.”

They found and delivered my bag in time for me to make use of its contents — my hair was fine, thank you. Of course, on the trip home I had to endure a red-eye flight with no bottled water and a parched throat, constant cabin announcements from a pilot who clearly takes way too many amphetamines, and a lovely surprise when I got to baggage claim: They’d lost my bag again. If I could do it, I’d only travel by train.