I left a few things open-ended and unanswered in the last article about my new EDC bag. I’m back with this post as an addendum of sorts. I will answer some of those questions and make some corrections.
Corrections? Sort of. Now that I’ve had the new bag out in the wild, so to speak, I’ve made a few minor adjustments to the contents. A few things went back in. There are some small additions. Also, thanks in part to a “Whaleliner,” something I was considering, I decided against altogether.
I also carried the bag into a concert venue in downtown Cleveland. Therefore, I have a few more things to say about “security theater.”
Bag Modifications
I took the shoulder strap off an old Timbuktu messenger bag. I removed the canvas portion from the shoulder strap of the Wotancraft bag. I replaced it with a modification of the Timbuktu strap. This gives me a rapidly adjustable shoulder strap—infinitely more useful. Easier to get the bag off and on and to get into when I need something.
Content Changes
Over the past month, I’ve made a few changes to the content. Let’s take a look.
First, the small plastic signal mirror came out. This is a duplicate of one in the small “survival kit.” Also in that kit is a small striker and several wads of tinder. I had forgotten these were in there. On top of this, an original Whaleliner pointed out the unlikeliness of needing to start a fire in an urban environment. Despite what I said here, I won’t be adding another firestarter.
I did add my retirement gift, an Opinel knife from France. Locks closed and open. Wooden handle. Light and sharp. By the way, this knife was in the bag when I went through the security bag check at the concert. More about that later.
Before going to the concert, I also added my retirement credentials. This was an insurance policy of sorts. Upon discovery of some dangerous contraband—like a whistle or flashlight (these are listed as not allowed on the concert venue’s website)—I could produce these and beg forgiveness. I’m planning to deposit it in the car where they could be most useful in an emergency. Not to ‘badge’ another officer, as I find that practice repugnant and deplorable.
The NARCAN is stashed now in the green REI zippered pouch. This gives me a bit more room in the GSW kit. Not enough, unfortunately, for the SOFT-T. I will still need to buy a SWAT-T.
I do not like the weight of the camera. So, I removed the “Peak Designs Capture” clip. I put that in the grey drawstring bag with the tools and the spare camera battery. If I carry the camera for some purpose, I can drop the grey bag into the main bag.
The RadioShack rechargeable battery, cables, and wall plug are back in the small REI zippered pouch. I added a flash drive that downloads from the iPhone. I put a lens cloth in the other small zippered pouch with the dental floss and lip balm.
Lastly, since it has so many uses and is so light in weight, I put the red neckerchief back in. I have several rubber bands around this to keep it rolled up and because they are so handy to have.
During a recent outing, Kathleen needed a hair band. She had to settle for one of my rubber bands. With that in mind, I added a hairband around the neckerchief. It will be there next time she needs it.
Security Theater
As described, this bag went through a bag check at a concert I recently attended. All of my EDC, except the folding karambit (which I left at home) and my money clip, went into the Wotancraft bag. I opened the two larger pockets and placed the bag in the bin next to the magnetometer, smiling and saying, “Here you go.” Stepping through, I heard the tones I was expecting, indicating I had metal on my person.
To the question, “Sir, do you have anything in your pockets?” I produced my handkerchief and metal money clip and said, “Oh, I’m sorry! I forgot about this.” I backed up, put the money clip into the bin next to my bag, and stepped back through at the attendant’s request. The warning tones again.
“Sir?”
“It must be my watch or belt,” I said as I patted my pockets and pointed to my watch. Or maybe my pants or shoes?”
“Okay, that’s fine. Thank you,” was the reply. I picked up my bag, zipped up, and moved on into the crowd.
Here’s the thing. It is my experience that private event security rarely understands the sensitivity of magnetometers—the walk-through units or the wands. Watches, money clips, belt buckles, and even rivets on jeans and eyelets on boots confuse them (the people, not the machines) if you offer them as potential. This is why TSA doesn’t rely on them.
Inside my bag that night, as always, were four other pouches zipped closed. NONE of these were opened or checked. I wasn’t, but almost certainly could have been, armed in the arena.
I write this not to brag but to warn. For if I could have, so could others. On top of that, most private event security is designed to prevent by posture, by putting on a good show. This theater keeps out the less sophisticated malfeasants and catches the most obvious problems. These are good things. But they are not perfect.
Only human beings can look directly at something, have all the information they need to make an accurate prediction, perhaps even momentarily make the accurate prediction, and then say that isn’t so.
Gavin de Becker, The Gift of Fear: Survival Signals that Protect Us from Violence
I encourage you not to break event security policies but to be tactically aware of your environment. Or at least listen to those in your party who are in touch with what Gavin de Becker calls your “gift of fear.”
Denial is a save now, pay later scheme.
Gavin de Becker, The Gift of Fear: Survival Signals that Protect Us from Violence
