I’ll never forget that trip home from college in 2002, the first time I opened my suitcase and found a small, white card with an official-looking seal informing me that border security agents had gone through my bag and inspected my belongings.

“Great,” I thought. “The U.S. Department of Homeland Security has been rifling through my underwear.”

The men in black, or whoever they were, left little evidence that they had been through my things at all, save that card, and some slightly out-of-order folded clothing — oh wait, this was MY suitcase, so nothing was probably folded anyway.

Nevertheless, that card alone made me feel slightly, well — violated.

Six years later, there are bigger fish to fry — a U.S. Senate hearing yesterday questioned whether federal officials can seize and search people’s laptop computers during airport security inspections. That story in today’s New York Times.

The federal government says the laptop searches are a necessary step in efforts to catch people who carry illegal material across U.S. borders.

The searches are problematic not only because of the obvious privacy concerns, but will likely cause an uproar because so many people today tie their entire lives up in their computers. I’m traveling to Chicago next month and will probably take my laptop, on which is saved countless, priceless notes, papers, interviews. I’ve seen friends treat the death of a laptop like the loss of a loved one. Seriously, they’ll mourn for days.

What would they do if their computers were suddenly taken away? For me, it would be as if someone took over and blew up my office.

I’m also confused as to what the Feds looking for. Data? Viruses? Photos? Is this a security issue? If it’s a bomb disguised as a computer, I could see how there would be cause for concern. But can’t anything being carried on a hard drive just as easily be sent via email from outside the U.S. to within American borders without even going through a metal detector? Someone enlighten me.

After going along with stricter bag inspections, pat downs, shoe removal, long lines, extended waiting times, no bottled anything, and the consolidation of all toiletries and medicines to a quart-size, zip-lock, clear plastic bag with (relatively) little protest, one wonders how much more travelers will tolerate.

Seven years after 9-11, seems like little white cards in our suitcases may be the least of our worries.