Speckled Footman and Maiden’s Blush

Last year, I attempted to pass through security in an American airport carrying a small black box, containing eight batteries and a visible circuit board. If the switch was flipped, the display counted down in red flashing numbers. Unsuprisingly, the officer in Salt Lake City pulled it out of my hand baggage.

‘What’s this?’

‘It’s to attract moths,’ I said; then, thinking this sounded feeble, added rather grandly, ‘I’m a lepidopterist.’

‘Say that again.’

So I did, and a huge grin lit up the face of my interrogator. ‘Hey, y’all,’ he called out to his colleagues. ‘C’mon on over, listen to this… Say it again.’

I passed on with my Goodden Gemlight, heading for the mountains of Montana, leaving behind a desk of mirthful security staff, all chuckling and repeating to each other ‘Lepidopterist… lepidopterist… lepidopterist….’