TSA & The Fig Newton Incident

The Big Fig

My perpetually flabbergasted husband will confirm I’ve had more than my share of run-ins with TSA in airports from Cincinnati to Prague. Yet, I’ve never been arrested or even detained— so far.

The most innocent of these “Security Breaches” occurred in Cincinnati.

We were living in Ohio short term and would head back to Los Angeles as often as we could. But unlike the teeming masses at LAX, Cincinnati’s airport was usually half empty. Security lines were short, the agents were never in vein-popping “Robocop” mode (think Newark) and the gates were a hop skip and a jump away. Plenty of time to drop a mortgage payment at Starbucks and fly away. 

However, on one trip, after Bob sailed through security ahead of me I noticed that Tim and Tina TSA were sharing some Fig Newton cookies.  

No! Not this Newton!!!

“Oh. My. God. I LOVE FIG NEWTONS!” I shrieked loud enough for Tim and Tina to crouch into a wide stance with their hands white-knuckled on their guns. I was so excited I didn’t even notice I was about to get shot.

“Oh, my God! Fig Newtons! I can’t remember the last time I had a Fig Newton.  I LOVE FIG NEWTONS!”

They holstered their weapons realizing my outburst was merely a love fest over their indiscreet snack. (Yes, this airport is that stress free.) 

I see Bob in his sensible loafers racing toward the commotion as I calmly ask Tim and Tina, “Hey, you guys remember the Fig Newton commercial from the 70’s? With the funny, fat guy dressed like a green fig singing about Fig Newtons?”

“Oh, I remember that!” said Tim and Tina in unison.

That’s when I see Bob approaching security in a panic. “Marianne! Are you okay?”

“Yeah! Fine! Hang on, sweetie.” I said holding up a hand to him.  “Okay, here goes!”and I began to sing.

“Chewy, ooey, rich and gooey inside.  Golden, flaky, tender cakey outside. Wrap the inside in the outside - Is it good? Darn Tootin’! Do the Big Fig Newton! One more time! The BIG FIG NEWTONNNNN!”

Tim and Tina clapped and offered me their last cookie. I uttered “thanks”  as Bob grabbed my arm and yanked me toward the gates.

“Ha, Bob! That was so much fun, right?! Wanna sing it while I eat my Newton?”

“No, thanks. I’m good.”

So with a mouth full of my chewy, ooey, rich and gooey prize I sang it for the whole airport to hear.

Was it good? Darn tootin!