The more I travel, the more I hate how fucked our airports have gotten. I'm waiting for the Pants Bomber to make those something else I need to take off and run through an X-ray machine (in a very particular way - only your pants can go in that bin, nothing in your pockets!). Perhaps, too, they'll outlaw anything over a 25" inseam, making it necessary to wear floods to the airport or suffer the pleasant staff cutting your pants down to size.
Do I sound bitter? If so, that's only because I didn't want to stand in a line on the way here to check my bag, resulting in my soap, toothpaste, and other sundries being confiscated for being over three fluid ounces. Of course, three fluid ounces are the exact right amount to prevent an attack. Four? You're fucked. Three? The world is a safer place.