Cool as McCumber

Oct. 27, 2008
Whose Job is This, Anyway?

It’s another new week and for this busy month, at least four flights. I have been working feverously to maintain commitments I had made months earlier. Back in April, I had emergency cervical spine surgery because of a new experience in pain I suffered after flying home from San Francisco. The throbbing in my shoulder and arm became a searing agony, and the doctors put me on an Elvis-quality cocktail of Percocet, Valium and Vicodin. The results were not what I hoped. Instead of instant relief and a buzz to rival a Woodstock day-trip, I could have had the same result with Chicklets.

With worsening symptoms, I was whisked into the MRI to be hammered with magnetic fields so the doctors could look inside me to see what was going on. The neurosurgeon spent 10 minutes looking at the happy snaps, then told me he was pushing back all his scheduled surgeries. I was selected to be the next guy under the knife. The next day, I was finally given the bull elephant dose of painkillers and sent to dreamland while the surgeon sliced opened my neck, moved the various fleshy bits to the side and started removing the damaged discs and bone spurs that were pressing my spinal column against hard bone.

The next day I saw the results when X-rays depicted a half dozen titanium barrels and a titanium strap to keep my vertebrae in proper alignment. The completed affair looks like four links of a motorcycle drive chain screwed into the bones of my cervical spine. After several weeks of recovery, I was cleared to travel, but was sternly warned not to lift anything heavier that a quart milk jug. I would now be forced to fly with a minimum of luggage.

As I boarded the plane with only my lightweight, old school valise (sans laptop), I felt oddly free from the tyranny of a bulging laptop briefcase set atop a maxed-out roll-aboard. I quietly seated myself in my chosen aisle location and put on my much beloved noise-cancelling headphones. I then watched as a tiny, older woman struggled down the aisle with an overstuffed shopping bag, a large purse, and a roll-aboard so loaded that you could almost hear the zippers straining to prevent the bag from exploding. Sure enough, she located her seat across the aisle from mine.

My traveling companion struggled to get her purse off her shoulder and on the seat so she could wrestle with her other bags. She made repeated, loud huffing noises and then glanced at me with a pleading expression only to avert her gaze to the oversized cases she had dragged on-board. Nothing needed to be said. I had dreaded this moment the minute I saw her come through the forward door. She was looking at a 6’1”, 215-pound man and expected some help.

I pulled on the collar of my shirt to expose the very noticeable five-inch scar across my throat. I explained my recent surgery, and that I was under strict doctor’s orders not to lift heavy objects of any kind, especially over my head. The bill for the surgery ran over $80,000. I wasn’t going to jeopardize this healing process. Before she could respond, I looked behind me and noticed a muscular twenty-something and asked for help on her behalf. Fortunately for us, he agreed.

I sat for a few minutes wondering how people make decisions (like what to take for carry-on) that presumes involvement from complete strangers. It’s like another personal annoyance I dread when traveling by air: the can-you-swap-seats-so-I-can-sit-by-my-spouse request. I am a frequent flyer and ensure I have an aisle seat for the extra room and bathroom access. I make my flight reservations as soon as possible and reserve the seat. The last time I acquiesced to this appeal, the requestor (the female spouse) swapped me her last-row-window seat, then proceeded to tilt my former aisle seat back and nod off the minute the wheels left the runway. She slept for the entire flight never even glancing at her beloved. Unless it’s a young child or a flight over two hours, I now decline. Hey, I’m a stranger.

When I finally got to the conference where I was speaking, the topic of security standards was raised. Several people demanded to know why the government had not provided them with enough guidance to develop adequate security programs. Astonishingly, the most vocal of all had impeccable security credentials and certifications. Yet here they were demanding some faceless bureaucrat tell them what they needed to do from Washington. No one else knows their risk tolerance or the value their organization places on its digital assets and processes. It’s time to be prepared to do the job yourself, or plan accordingly. Don’t rely on the kindness of strangers.

John McCumber is a security and risk professional, and is the author of “Assessing and Managing Security Risk in IT Systems: A Structured Methodology,” from Auerbach Publications. If you have a comment or question for him, please e-mail John at:[email protected].

About the Author

John McCumber

John McCumber is a security and risk professional, and author of “Assessing and Managing Security Risk in IT Systems: A Structured Methodology,” from Auerbach Publications. If you have a comment or question for him, e-mail [email protected].