Code Kumquat

"Put the ship on Code Orange, lieutenant!"
"Holy Toledo, skipper! Is it that bad?"
"It's bad enough. And I don't want you men getting caught with your britches down. If we have to go to Code Red, I want you guys to be good-to-go!"
"We won't let you down, cap'n! Initiating the Code Orange!"

Klaxons sound throughout the ship. Men pull on helmets and flak jackets as they dash to their posts, hearts pounding.

"All stations are standing ready at Orange Alert, cap'n."
"Good work. Now all we do is wait."
"And pray, cap'n?"
"Amen to that, lieutenant. Amen to that."

Yesterday, in response to subway and bus bombings in London, Homeland Security Secretary Michael Chertoff raised the national threat level to orange, or "high risk of terrorist attacks" with regard to the mass transit sector, specifically buses and trains.

If someone were to say to me, "Today there is a high risk at your workplace of being bitten by asps," I would call in sick (assuming the someone were a credible source--a herpetologist, or zoo official hunting down a missing asp family), or I might call the police and say "There is a crazy person frightening me with threats of asps. Please come and arrest him at once." In the event of confirmed high asp risk, I would want the building shut down and searched carefully room by room and I would not expect to have to go back to work until the possibity of asps had been ruled out, or until every errant asp had been accounted for.

I use Los Angeles public transport daily. Yesterday, our "second" in the Duel With Terror had been attacked. I was naturally curious, eager even, to see what an Orange Alert on public transport looked like. I realize that there were a few Orange Alerts thrown around in the buildup to the invasion of Iraq, but those weren't real Orange Alerts. Those were more for dramatic effect--or maybe the result of pantswetting overeagerness at the Dept. of Homeland Security (I mean, what an irresistible temptation it must be to know you can alter the adrenaline levels of millions of people from the comfort of your desk; there's no way I could resist it). So I took notes on the way home--on my bus ride east on Wilshire Blvd. and then subway trip from Wilshire & Western to Vermont & Sunset.

Here is what a Code Orange looks like on L.A. public transportation:

Carrying a heavy shoulder bag filled with mysteriously bulky items, I board a "Rapid" bus at Wilshire Blvd. & La Cienega Ave. Subdued atmosphere on bus. More seats available than usual. I keep eyes peeled for any signs of Orange Alert--police activity, anything unusual.

Traffic begins to slow as the bus approaches Wilshire & Fairfax Ave.

Reason for traffic slowing is revealed: Across the street from the L.A. County Museum of Art, a motorcycle cop is giving a ticket to a twenty-something man seated in his red economy car.

I observe that no one seems to mind my looking this way and that way, scribbling frantic notes in my little book.

On Wilshire, just west of Highland Ave., a policeman w/police cruiser, is giving a ticket to a twenty-something woman seated in her white economy car.

I transfer from the bus to catch the Union Station-bound train at Vermont & Western subway station:

A police cruiser is parked on the sidewalk plaza near the station entrance. 2 female police officers loiter. Another police cruiser can be seen driving south on Western.

(NOTE: L.A. has an "honor system" with regard to subway ticketing. If you ride the subway, you are expected to have purchased a ticket. Periodically, pairs of deputies or police officers will stop passengers at exits or board train cars and ask to see tickets. If you can't produce one you are hit with a very heavy fine. Given the circumstances, I prepare to have my ticket checked.)

2 female sherriff's deputies stand together on the Wilshire & Western platform. I do not see them check any passenger for tickets. I board the train without having to show my own ticket.

From my viewpoint through a window, there is no sign of law enforcement at the next stop, Wilshire & Normandie.

At Wilshire & Vermont Ave. I switch trains. No sign of law enforcement on either of the stations two platforms.

I pass through 2 stations--Vermont & Beverly and Vermont & Santa Monica (no law enforcement officers sighted on the platforms of either of these stations)--before reaching my destination.

I disembark at the Vermont & Sunset station. No law enforcement officers inside the station. I spot one Transport Authority employee in ORANGE vest talking on a station phone.

Outside the station, a cruiser is parked at the curb on Vermont Ave. 2 male police officers stand talking near the station entrance. 1 male, 1 female police officer stand near a hotdog stand.

Walked several blocks to my home--no law enforcement presence spotted.

Los Angeles is a great big ol' giant flat screen tv of a city, and policing it is like sending a shoebox full of plastic army men to monitor a football field. However, the public transport system is still--famously--in a "growth period", with nothing like the thousands of miles of subway track and bus route in other megalopolises. My trip home yesterday did not feel orange--it felt blue.

The lowest possible level of the Dept. of Homeland Security's 5-color threat scale is Code Green which indicates a "low risk of terrorist attacks". There is no color designation to indicate "no risk of terrorist attacks". Prominent sources repeatedly tell me that we will win the War On Terror. When we do, how will I know it?