'Twas the Night Before Shutdown

By Bud Koenemund

With apologies to Clement Moore

‘Twas the night before shutdown,
And all through PIT land
Every creature was stirring,
From podium to TDC stand.

The new hires were nestled close to their coaches
As a winding queue full of passengers approached.
Laptops were divested by DOs with care,
Along with shoes, and CPAPs, and products for hair.

X-ray ops still kept a keen eye;
Detecting those objects prohibited to fly.
And, bag checkers checked, as they are wont to do,
Ensuring those gigantic masses are only food.

AIT officers begged people to empty their pockets
Of coins, candy, gum, papers, and lockets;
Then, cleared inevitable groin alarms
Using a firm hashtag pattern, but causing no harm.

The Leads went mad, managing multiple lanes,
While half their team members moaned and complained
About getting their breaks and lunches too early or too late;
A daily occurrence that’s beginning to grate.

Supes ran forward and back, for numbers and IDs;
And, watched the organized chaos of their busy bees
Striving to keep the skies safe for democracy,
So that people and commerce can flow carefree.

Then, down in Washington, arose such a clatter –
A sad, sobering reminder that politics matter –
Our Representatives debated both to and fro
While in the balance hung the TSA’s payroll.

And, in the mind of each employee essential,
Crept the lack of a budget, and the shutdown potential.
They fretted ‘bout food, gas, and mortgages or rent;
Worrying over every single dollar and cent.

Though, as they work, they’ll find comfort in knowing
Congress gets paid while their anxiety’s growing;
Concerned about utilities and college tuition;
Left, by politicians, in compromising positions.

They are the red-headed step-children; considered exempt;
By the General Schedule held below contempt.
But, they show up and do their job day after day;
Even sometimes… occasionally… far too oft’… without pay.