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Apparantly they have found an anti-american crowd at MSNBC headquarters. But we already knew that.

This is an account of a conversation the reporter had with a bag handler at the ariport. He completely belittles this woman becuase she doesnt like the chicks. It's extremely cruel they way he makes fun of this woman for the sake of promoting the chicks. Anyway I thought you might be interested in it.

http://dixiechicks.msn.com/article.aspx?cp-documentid=458858

FLYING TO MEET THE

DIXIE CHICKS

First, airport security has a few questions

by Junichi P. Semitsu

I'm on my way to Austin to meet the Dixie Chicks for the first time.

I'm running late, which means I'm racing and panting through Terminal One of the San Diego International Airport with cameras and video equipment in tow, which means I look like a panicked Japanese tourist about to miss his plane.

I go through the normal rigmarole of airport security and remove my shoes, my laptop, and my Texas-shaped belt buckle.

I don't normally wear a belt buckle, but I'm traveling to the Lone Star State, after all. I'd like to assimilate into Texan culture in order to avoid Austin security strip-searching me and conducting invasive gloved searches deep in the heart of, um, Texas.

Unfortunately, I forget to remove my video camera from its case before sending it through the X-ray belt.

A security guard then commands me to follow her to a nearby table. This luggage inspector is a charming but priggish woman in her fifties who looks like a cross between Mimi on the Drew Carey Show (with slightly less makeup) and Nemo the fish (if Nemo was a shark). Let's call her Mimo.

She inquires where I'm going and I tell her I'm heading to Austin.

Inspector Mimo then asks, "Why are you going to Austin?"

This is one of those questions intended to sound like friendly conversation, but, in fact, is Interrogatory #4B in the airport security manual of how to determine whether a passenger should be placed on the No-Fly list.

I reply, "Believe it or not, I'm headed to Austin to meet the Dixie Chicks." I explain this whole MSN/Dixie Chicks project, while suppressing my panic over the fact that my plane is scheduled to leave in a few seconds.

After a long silence, I realize that she's either unappeased with my explanation or suffering from lactose-induced borborygmus.

Eventually, the source of her discomfort becomes clear when she unleashes the following statement:

Well … I sure don't like those Dixie Chicks' political views. If they feel that way, I don't think they should be in our country!

After wondering when "The Incident" would first come up, the answer is in my face, vigorously groping my boxers and shaving kit. And I'm still a few hundred miles away from the Chicks!

I can't resist responding to Mimo, although I know I risk missing my flight.

I cautiously offer her my opinion that the Dixie Chicks are quite patriotic and simply aren't supporters of our current president's decision to go to war.

She huffs, "Well, I wasn't a big fan of the previous president, but you never saw me complaining."

I'm willing to bet that she did complain, most likely while waving a large IMPEACH CLINTON sign off Interstate 8.

While Mimo rummages through all my pockets, I eventually learn that she is a "huge country music fan."

But when I ask whether she once was a fan of the Dixie Chicks, she pauses and ponders the question for a long minute. She eventually responds, "I don't remember…I guess…yeah, I really did like their music a long time ago."

I am astonished to the point of speechlessness. Here is a person who loves country music, once adored the Dixie Chicks, but can't bring herself now to listen to them anymore because of one dissenting remark about President Bush, whose approval ratings are slightly lower than my chances of making the flight.

Her boycott of the Dixie Chicks doesn't seem out of principle as much as brainwashing, since she couldn't even remember whether she once enjoyed their music.

I have always believed the Dixie Chicks backlash seemed over-exaggerated, if not altogether manufactured by a few right-wing rabble-rousers.

But Mimo is a real flesh-and-blood American who still holds a stubborn grudge against the Dixie Chicks, even while sniffing my deodorant for anthrax.

Eventually, Mimo lets me go - but not before saying, "And those Dixie Chicks sure go through a bunch of different hairstyles!"

It's not clear which Natalie Maines's Bush-related comment or her oft-changing hairstyle is the bigger crime to Mimo.

Luckily, I make my flight just in time. As I clasp my seat belt over my buckle, I thank Mimo for giving me a clear perspective on this project.

If Mimo represents the average American, the Dixie Chicks have a lot at stake with their new album and tour.

The questions linger: Will Mimo the airport security guard ever forgive the Dixie Chicks?

And does it matter?

FLYING TO MEET THE

DIXIE CHICKS

First, airport security has a few questions

by Junichi P. Semitsu

I'm on my way to Austin to meet the Dixie Chicks for the first time.

I'm running late, which means I'm racing and panting through Terminal One of the San Diego International Airport with cameras and video equipment in tow, which means I look like a panicked Japanese tourist about to miss his plane.

I go through the normal rigmarole of airport security and remove my shoes, my laptop, and my Texas-shaped belt buckle.

I don't normally wear a belt buckle, but I'm traveling to the Lone Star State, after all. I'd like to assimilate into Texan culture in order to avoid Austin security strip-searching me and conducting invasive gloved searches deep in the heart of, um, Texas.

Unfortunately, I forget to remove my video camera from its case before sending it through the X-ray belt.

A security guard then commands me to follow her to a nearby table. This luggage inspector is a charming but priggish woman in her fifties who looks like a cross between Mimi on the Drew Carey Show (with slightly less makeup) and Nemo the fish (if Nemo was a shark). Let's call her Mimo.

She inquires where I'm going and I tell her I'm heading to Austin.

Inspector Mimo then asks, "Why are you going to Austin?"

This is one of those questions intended to sound like friendly conversation, but, in fact, is Interrogatory #4B in the airport security manual of how to determine whether a passenger should be placed on the No-Fly list.

I reply, "Believe it or not, I'm headed to Austin to meet the Dixie Chicks." I explain this whole MSN/Dixie Chicks project, while suppressing my panic over the fact that my plane is scheduled to leave in a few seconds.

After a long silence, I realize that she's either unappeased with my explanation or suffering from lactose-induced borborygmus.

Eventually, the source of her discomfort becomes clear when she unleashes the following statement:

Well … I sure don't like those Dixie Chicks' political views. If they feel that way, I don't think they should be in our country!

After wondering when "The Incident" would first come up, the answer is in my face, vigorously groping my boxers and shaving kit. And I'm still a few hundred miles away from the Chicks!

I can't resist responding to Mimo, although I know I risk missing my flight.

I cautiously offer her my opinion that the Dixie Chicks are quite patriotic and simply aren't supporters of our current president's decision to go to war.

She huffs, "Well, I wasn't a big fan of the previous president, but you never saw me complaining."

I'm willing to bet that she did complain, most likely while waving a large IMPEACH CLINTON sign off Interstate 8.

While Mimo rummages through all my pockets, I eventually learn that she is a "huge country music fan."

But when I ask whether she once was a fan of the Dixie Chicks, she pauses and ponders the question for a long minute. She eventually responds, "I don't remember…I guess…yeah, I really did like their music a long time ago."

I am astonished to the point of speechlessness. Here is a person who loves country music, once adored the Dixie Chicks, but can't bring herself now to listen to them anymore because of one dissenting remark about President Bush, whose approval ratings are slightly lower than my chances of making the flight.

Her boycott of the Dixie Chicks doesn't seem out of principle as much as brainwashing, since she couldn't even remember whether she once enjoyed their music.

I have always believed the Dixie Chicks backlash seemed over-exaggerated, if not altogether manufactured by a few right-wing rabble-rousers.

But Mimo is a real flesh-and-blood American who still holds a stubborn grudge against the Dixie Chicks, even while sniffing my deodorant for anthrax.

Eventually, Mimo lets me go - but not before saying, "And those Dixie Chicks sure go through a bunch of different hairstyles!"

It's not clear which Natalie Maines's Bush-related comment or her oft-changing hairstyle is the bigger crime to Mimo.

Luckily, I make my flight just in time. As I clasp my seat belt over my buckle, I thank Mimo for giving me a clear perspective on this project.

If Mimo represents the average American, the Dixie Chicks have a lot at stake with their new album and tour.

The questions linger: Will Mimo the airport security guard ever forgive the Dixie Chicks?

And does it matter?