EVERY LAST DROP.(The Talk of the Town)

"Do you get nervous about flying?" a man asked two women seated next to him, as they waited by the arrival gate at Kennedy Airport's Terminal 7, last Thursday afternoon. "You know, it's safer than any other form of transportation," he said. "You're more likely to have an accident in your own bathroom."

It was Day One of the newly re-upped security alert, in which the bathroom had suddenly become a kind of frequent flyer's red zone, a storeroom of forbidden goods: toothpaste, mouthwash, hair spray, hand cream, sunscreen, mascara, Visine, Clearasil, Old Spice. "No Liquids, Gels, and Aerosols" signs were posted throughout the airport, and by lunchtime nearly all departing travellers had heard the news, from England, of the latest foiled terrorist plot. Families clustered around large trash bins, chugging water and juice, as though hydrating before a desert crossing.

Around two o'clock, the first British Airways flight out of Heathrow touched down, several hours behind schedule. British authorities had prohibited not just liquids but carry-on luggage altogether, dispensing clear plastic bags for wallets and passports. Each new arrival offered an assessment of the experience--"very normal," "no drama," "I'm bored on all flights"--which suggested a stoic forbearance with the inconveniences of the post-September 11th world. About the worst casualty of the new policy was a Paddington Bear mug that one Connecticut mother had meant to bring back for her daughter. Meanwhile, a British couple, in scouring the airport bookstore (some non-potable items purchased beyond the checkpoint were allowed on board), had even scored a couple of unlikely winners: "Does Anything Eat Wasps?: And 101 Other Unsettling, Witty Answers to Questions You Never Thought You Wanted to Ask" and "Chance: A Guide to Gambling, Love, the Stock Market, and Just About Everything Else."

Graham Lyons, a sixty-six-year-old barrister from London, had been forced to stow his Sunday Times ("It's about the only thing I enjoy reading," he said) with his ...