NEW ORLEANS -- Late Monday night I walked the perimeter of the deserted Superdome. There was an eerie golden glow from a full moon, and a soupy fog had engulfed the structure, mixing with the stadium’s spotlights to give the place an almost underwater feel.

I was also taken aback by the irony of how the eight-foot chain-link fences and concrete barricades that now circle the stadium (twice) are all draped in red, white and blue bunting -- the symbols of freedom, restraint and protection blending into a single image that, sadly, seems to define our times.

But what hit me the hardest as I circled the building and chatted up the security guards and peeked inside to see the multi-colored seats was that, right now, this place is the prime terrorist target in the entire world.

Yet I felt completely safe.

Maybe I’m naïve, but the sheer magnitude of the security effort that has been going on here for months is more than enough to put my mind at ease. Since the game was designated a National Security Special Event by the White House (the first sporting event to receive such a distinction) $6 million has been spent organizing and preparing thousands of law enforcement officials, including the Secret Service, FBI, SWAT teams, the Department of Defense, the Coast Guard, the National Guard and counterterrorism experts from FEMA.

"I’m a worrywart," admitted NFL commish Paul Tagliabue. "Compared to previous Super Bowls, security for this game will be increased by orders of magnitude, not by increments."

I’ll say.

I’ve been here less than 18 hours and already my bag has been searched four times. At one point I was searched, wanded with that electronic cricket stick and thoroughly ID’ed, with a florescent green label affixed to my chest like a giant corsage just to go up seven floors -- on the wrong elevator.

There will be jet fighters in the air, Coast Guard cutters patrolling the Mississippi River, FEMA officials monitoring the air we breathe and secret service agents wearing beer helmets and Rams jerseys mingling in with the Bourbon Street crowd all week. And starting two days before the game, when the entire area surrounding the dome is cleared and swept by a security detail, the kind of walk I took last night could land me in Guantanamo.

After that, everyone entering the area will be subject to an intense series of searches that could include pat-downs, metal detectors, face-recognition computer technology and X-ray machines. Fans are being told to arrive several hours before the game and to bring little more than a good buzz, their ticket and the clothes on their back.

Right now, though, movement in and around the NFL-occupied areas of the city is still quite convenient. Nobody loves to mock the NFL more than me, but so far the league and the security entities have made an astounding effort to be friendly but firm and not overstate their presence here. For once the NFL has correctly aligned its priorities, spent appropriately, planned accordingly and purposefully avoided publicity.

I was in Atlanta the morning after the Centennial Olympic Park bombing, and in 12 hours the area where I was staying was turned into something that resembled a militarized zone, with deserted streets sectioned off by barbed wire and barricades and patrolled by armed National Guardsmen in camo’ed jeeps. I would count the slap-in-the-face shock of that scene among my worst sports memories.

But last night on the Superdome plaza, where it was so quiet you could hear the sound check going on inside, things were almost peaceful. Several times as I wandered around, checking out among other things the huge crates of E*Trade Super Bowl seat cushions (Freebies! Yes!) and empty (&$#!) Budweiser tents, I was approached by security personnel.

"Are you guys stationed at every entrance?" I asked.

"We’re everywhere," came the reply. "Who are you with?"

"ESPN."

"Uh-huh."

"I guess we’re everywhere too."

"Yeah."

"You feel safe here?"

"Trust me, this is the safest place on the planet right now."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Say, uh, you don’t have a key for this Budweiser stand do you?"

"Keep moving, sir. Keep moving."

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FLEM GEMS