Look, I know it's the duty of union reps to stick up for their guys no matter what.
Still, I’d be a little leery of jumping to the defense of the air traffic controller who was making a personal phone call while a plane and helicopter collided over the Hudson River recently. Nine people died there.
For this little distraction, the controller has been suspended. Same for his supervisor, who was not in the room at the time and thus couldn’t supervise.
That didn’t sit well with a former union rep for controllers at JFK Airport, who said, “This had absolutely nothing to do with the accident. This controller is being used as a scapegoat. The whole thing is absurd.”
Gee, I dunno. I hate to be obsessive-compulsive about this, but if I’m on a plane, I want my air traffic controller looking at my radar blip and talking to my pilot.
Maybe not all the time, but at least I don’t want him yakking on a cell phone or surfing the Net or arguing about last night’s game around the water cooler.
Statistically, commercial flying is very safe. But there’s this funny thing about it:
You run into something up there, and it’s probably the last mistake you will ever make.
Friday, August 14, 2009
Hold the phone
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4 comments:
Rush Windbagh admitted on the radio this summer that he belongs to a union, this admission coming between exhalations of gas bashing unions. I'm still trying to figure that one out.
The only UNION, MY people, is God's plan for a UNION between a MAN and a WOMAN! (or between two really hot babes) I DID NOT SAY THAT LAST PART!!!!! MY CAT WALKED ACROSS THE KEYBOARD MY PEOPLE!!!!
-- The Reverend Doctor Brother Master Bishop Quaaludus Smith PhD, ThD,StD, Pastor of the Bright Light Free Will Four Square All of the Gospel and Then Some Missionary Temple Outreach Holiness Sanctified Fellowship of the Lord God ME and Christain School and Auto Repair
Whoaaaaaaaa! Easy there, Rev, and take a breath!
Yes, let us breathe in the fullness of The One's green and blue earth, and exhale the noxious poisons of hatred and, like, existential angst, and, like, stuff.
-Poncy Tworbt, MA, Grief Counselor and Youth Minister
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