No-Fly

So we're in Minnesota to sort through boxes of things at my parents' house. Later, we will have most of those things sent to storage in Maryland. For now, it's been fun to find (read: play with) some of my old Construx and Micro Machines. But that's not what I want to talk about right now.

When we handed our IDs to the agent at the check-in counter yesterday, he glanced at Sara's and immediately handed it back to her. But mine he scrutinized, squinting, examining it in great detail. After looking back and forth between the computer screen and my drivers license several more times, he made a phone call--the kind of phone call where your voice is barely audible because you don't want people around to hear you.

He hung up the phone and announced that he would be right back before disappearing through a door behind the counter. He returned a few minutes later and handed me my ID.

Him: You're good to go.

Me: Sooo...what was that about.

Him: Hm? Oh, apparently you're on a "No-Fly" list.

Me: WHAT?!

Him: Well, not YOU, but someone with your name. But we cleared you.

Me: So how do you know it isn't me?

Him: We checked the birthdate.

Me: Is is older or younger than me?

He didn't have an answer that could clue me into my doppelganger's identity. I wonder if it might be Patrick Roy's son--he seems to get into trouble fairly often. Anyway, I sense that having my name on a "No-Fly" list is going to make travel pretty interesting for a while. I wonder if getting my diplomatic passport will make things easier.