Every now and then I catch myself reminiscing about the good old days of this past summer, when life was still normal and good. Barely a month in the past, yet the summer now feels like a lifetime ago. Our friend Zoya came to visit us from Uzbekistan this summer. What pleased her most about her visit to America was that no one ever stopped her to demand her documents, to rummage through her bags or to ask what she was doing here. And she was both thrilled and shocked by our carefree ways: not locking our car doors, walking with our backpacks unzipped.

When Zoya told me what impressed her most about my country, I laughed and said "but that's America!" I, like many Americans, took it all for granted. Like the ribbon of highway and the redwood forests, our freedom and security were just part of the uniquely American scenery. But what we didn't know was that we were just lucky. And on September 11, our luck ran out.

Now Americans may be faced with a choice: our security or our freedom? Because the acts of September 11 and the investigation into those events may reveal that we can't have both. The CIA wants expanded powers to hold suspects, tap phones and intercept e-mails. Civil libertarians are warning about the slippery slope and the erosion of privacy and freedom. As a good liberal, I know that I'm expected to plant my flag squarely on the side of freedom and repeat the battle cry that if we curtail our freedoms, then the terrorists have won. But I say phooey!

If the government wants to listen in on my phone calls, let 'em. They'll no doubt agree with me that I'm always right and my mother is always wrong. If they want to read my e-mails, go ahead. Maybe I'll finally get discovered as the true literary genius that I am. Either that, or they'll be bored to tears.

"But what about my right to privacy?" you might ask. Anyone who thinks we have privacy now is kidding themselves. We haven't had privacy since America prostrated itself in worship to the unholy god of marketing. Use a credit card or one of the many store courtesy cards and total strangers know your number, your buying habits and probably your preferred method of birth control and your choice of sanitary products. Go online to pay a bill, purchase something, or chat in a chat room and they–and any clever hacker–can probably find out your social security number, your mother's maiden name and your secret password. And none of these people are even remotely interested in protecting you from kamikaze hijackers.

And what about stepping out onto the slippery slope of eroding civil liberties? When we can't get on an airplane, a train or a bus without being afraid of our fellow passengers or when we are too terrified to get on an airplane at all, I'd say we've already lost some civil liberties. And when we can't kiss our loved ones as we go off to work in the morning confident that we'll see them again at the end of the day, there goes another civil liberty. When our children cower in fear at the sound of planes buzzing overhead, when we are advised by endless pundits to prepare for chemical and biological warfare, when we are afraid to drink the water, I'd say we've probably hit bottom of a slippery slope. There's no place left to go but up.

We lived in Uzbekistan for two and a half years. While we lived there, our phones were tapped and we were warned that our apartment was probably bugged too. Our Uzbek neighbors would come by, point at the light fixtures and hush us when we talked about politics or black-market exchanges. But we enjoyed our life there and felt relatively safe and relatively free. A few years ago, my family and I took a trip to Israel, a country besieged by terrorist attacks. We answered lots of questions when we arrived at and when we departed from the airport, had to show our passports while traveling, and had our bags inspected often. But we enjoyed our trip and felt relatively safe and relatively free.

On September 11, Shimon Peres expressed his sorrow and said "We are all Israelis now." I think I know what he meant. Every night, before my seven year old daughter can fall asleep, I have to assure her that no planes are going to crash into our house and that all the "bad guys" who did this are dead. Essentially, I have to lie to my daughter. If giving up a bit of my civil liberties will help my child sleep safely at night, I say have 'em. In the end, we Americans may just have to choose to live relatively safe and relatively free.

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