Now that terrorism, not fear of flying, has become the primary anxiety in the air, some of the most inconvenienced among travelers are classical musicians, attempting to fly from one worldwide concert hall to another one, while their suspect Stradivari are scanned and prodded or theyre urged to check their instruments.

Certainly, if security personnel can peer into the deepest recesses of carryon luggage, a way can be devised to glance into a violin or a cello to see what improvised explosive device the classical musician might have inveigled into its graceful orifices.

We could, of course, never totally trust a violin or other musical instrument, because, no sooner would the word get out, than terrorists would line up with their rigged variations.

Sadly, we now hear of concerts cancelled and realize how fragile civilization is.

One major symphony orchestra has already begun to pack all of its instruments in large shipping crates but what anxiety of loss must accompany every flight.

We imagine that, in time, there will be instruments in every hall for the use of all. While they will seem strange compared to the players own prized instruments, we assume that convenience will finally win out over risk and that, with a little fiddling, even the strange appurtenances suddenly thrust into their hands will feel like instruments they can sing through.