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Recently, I was going through an airport with my shoes, coat, jacket, and belt off as well as with my carry-on bag, briefcase, and laptop all separated for easy inspection. I was heading through security at the Washington D.C., Ronald Reagan National Airport in Arlington, Virginia, or "National" as we locals call it. As I passed through the new magnetometer which gently puffed air all over my body -- which to me seems to be a cross between a glaucoma test and Marilyn Monroe in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes -- a TSA employee absent-mindedly asked if he could "inspect" my laptop computer. While the inspection was cursory, the situation immediately gave me pause: What was in my laptop anyway?

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