President Bush wasn’t sure what it meant a couple of months ago when he was asked at his press conference to provide an example. He answered, “Well, if you see someone who you don’t know getting into a crop-duster that isn’t yours …” This was an amusing answer, but it didn’t really make any sense. If the crop-duster isn’t yours, you probably have no idea what the rightful owner looks like, so of course you’re not going to recognize the person getting into it. Besides, I’m not even sure I know what a crop-duster looks like.
The point is, it’s of some concern that not even the president can really define what constitutes a suspicious-looking circumstance. And encouraging us to keep an eye out for such things and then to call the authorities, makes us look at everything and everyone with suspicion.
The other day, standing in line at the post office, the teenage boy ahead of me started moving toward the counter before the woman who was being waited on was finished with her business. She wheeled around, glared at him, and said, “Could you get back? You’re getting too close to me.” The boy obediently stepped back. Actually, several of us did. You see, none of us are sure what the new boundaries are, or whether someone is acting suspicious or simply rude.
Also last week, I overheard an Iranian man ask a passerby if he knew where he could get a passport photo done. The business-suited man who had stopped to buy a newspaper didn’t answer. He put his head down and hurried off–perhaps to call the authorities about a suspicious looking man wanting to get a passport photo taken?
The truth is, if any of us really did witness something overtly suspicious, we would recognize it as such and we would not disregard it. If you saw a person furtively leaving a suitcase on the sidewalk in a busy shopping area and rushing away, would you shrug it off and do nothing? I doubt it, not in these times.
We are all on alert these days. No one needs to remind us about it. And pressuring us to remain on alert could actually dull our senses, confuse our instincts. We might be so busy phoning in tips about completely innocent people that we would miss something that really is out of the ordinary.
I caught myself, after meticulously scrutinizing the FBI’s most wanted list, peering at every face I saw throughout the day, looking for one of those guys. I saw some strong resemblance in many faces, too–a similar nose, maybe the eyes–and of course you have to consider the possibility of disguises. I would really like to be an international hero and phone in a tip about some guy the FBI has been hunting. And I would be proud and honored to thwart a potential act of terrorism. I think it’s unlikely, though, and I realized that going through my days with that as an agenda meant that I was behaving like a lunatic and making everyone who came in contact with me extremely uncomfortable.
I suppose I should be thankful that no one called in a tip about me.
