You might be a terrorist...

Here's the story of how yours truly became a potential terrorist:

I had the good fortune to be at Shea Stadium for their last win of the season. (If you're a Mets fan you know this was unfortunately Game 6, not Game 7, of the NLCS.)

I brought my camera with me, and took photos at the game. Then, I was on the 7 train back to Manhattan, the 1 train to Penn Station, and finally a NJ Transit train home (yes, I now realize I should have taken LIRR). My point is that I was on a bunch of trains.

If you're like me, trains will start to bore you. Sure there's people watching, I had my iPod (but an hour of consecutive Pac-Man games had drained the battery), but I was getting a bit bored. So, I had my digital camera in tow... decided to look through the lens and see if there was anything worth photographing.

So, I fiddled around with some close-up shots, long exposures, low-lighting situations... looking at things really small, really big... a creative exploration of my surroundings because... wait for it... I'm a "creative."

Try explaining that to the conductor who looms over you and motions for your camera.

Initially I thought he wanted me to take my feet off the seats (I was slouching and had my legs crossed on the seat next to me... I'll note: in a fashion in which I did not have my soles on the seat). I propped up. He motioned again for my lap. I thought this time he wanted my iPod off. Then I realized my camera was in my hands.

I naively thought... oh, a fellow artist. He must be interested in what kind of shots I was getting. (Note: The train was nearly empty, because it was the very last train of the night. He wasn't super busy and we had some time between stops. Logic tells me that he has time to converse with a passenger if you chooses.)

No. He wasn't interested in sharing f-stop stories. He wanted to know, "Why have you been taking pictures at every station we've stopped at?"

I thought for a second. I had taken a picture at the last station because there was a cool lighting situation across the platform. The spot was illuminating a corner of a bench and the yellow edge of the platform.

"I haven't been doing that."

"Well, I guess we've stopped in only two stations." (So, I guess I might have.)

"How do you see what photos were taken on this thing?"

Okay, we're no longer dealing with a fellow photographer here. I show him. I'm now elevated in my seat, guiding him through the camera's preview feature. I wasn't sure how I could explain what I was innocently trying to do.

"Okay, that's Penn Station, the train... that's Shea Stadium..." as he reached the end of the train photos. I had really only taken 6 or 7 photos up to this point.

"You can't take photos of train stations." he said. "Ever since they put planes into our towers you can't do that any more. Somebody saw you taking photos and said something. You gotta delete those photos." Prior to him saying that I actually offered up, "I can delete them if you want." (They were all probably blurred out from camera shake anyway.)

So, he leaves me to delete them (again, not a camera guy, he doesn't know how to do it)... and I do.

After he leaves the following thoughts cross my mind:

1: It's a good thing I'm not using film so I don't lose the Shea pictures.

2: Hey, who's to say I am not trying to blow up Shea Stadium if my camera's contents is evidence of my intent?

3: Are we really so fearful that someone would speak up about someone taking pictures of train stations? I guess I'm happy that I am a blue-eyed, blonde-haired, white potential terrorist. They certainly weren't profiling me.

4: What if I didn't delete the photos? Did they have a NJ Transit version of Guantanamo Bay to put me in? How long would it take me to get out of an interrogation because I lazily was snapping photos on the train? Would I have to lawyer up? Could I be the next poster boy for the ACLU?

5: Lastly, I bet I get flagged by some FBI terrorist search team for this post. I wonder if this is what it felt like if you liked the color red under McCarthyism?