JetBlue Flight Attendant

the story that has drawn my attention is the JetBlue flight attendant that made some interesting choices with his retirement announcement. He coursed out a passenger, grabbed two beers from the beverage cart and opened the emergency exit and slid down the big yellow slide. Before he left he gave an expletive laden good bye speech. His story to his lawyer claims the gash on his forehead came from a rude passenger who stood up before the plane had come to a complete stop.

but now i have come across different versions of the story. the Wall St. Journal claims that HE started the fight. that several passengers said he was belligerent at the beginning of the flight. i don't know who to believe. the flight attendant was also reported to be out of drug and alcohol rehab. so what happened? did he fall off the wagon? did the head accident cause the meltdown? i'm not sure. but what interests me is the public's response to this story in making him out to be a hero.

Is this guy really a hero?

What percentage of attendants have college degrees?

This guy was out of drug and alcohol rehab.

He curses out the plane. Steals two BEERS then deploys the emergency shoot?

I've dealt with the public before.

If the woman was the problem, there are certainly better ways to deal with it.
Is it because so many of us are just teetering on a similar meltdown?Are so many of us living lives of quiet desperation that we are one incident away from snapping? Is it our society? Or is it just humanity's 10,00 year old brains trying to cope with modern society's rules? Are outbursts like this at least better than suicide bombers blowing up cafe's?

yeah I guess so.

here is what Bukowski says:

The Shoelace, copyright Charles Bukowski, 1972

a woman, a
tire that’s flat, a
disease, a
desire: fears in front of you,
fears that hold so still
you can study them
like pieces on a
chessboard…
it’s not the large things that
send a man to the
madhouse. death he’s ready for, or
murder, incest, robbery, fire, flood…
no, it’s the continuing series of small tragedies
that send a man to the
madhouse…
not the death of his love
but a shoelace that snaps
with no time left …
The dread of life
is that swarm of trivialities
that can kill quicker than cancer
and which are always there -
license plates or taxes
or expired driver’s license,
or hiring or firing,
doing it or having it done to you, or
roaches or flies or a
broken hook on a
screen, or out of gas
or too much gas,
the sink’s stopped-up, the landlord’s drunk,
the president doesn’t care and the governor’s
crazy.
light switch broken, mattress like a
porcupine;
$105 for a tune-up, carburetor and fuel pump at
sears roebuck;
and the phone bill’s up and the market’s
down
and the toilet chain is
broken,
and the light has burned out -
the hall light, the front light, the back light,
the inner light; it’s
darker than hell
and twice as
expensive.
then there’s always crabs and ingrown toenails
and people who insist they’re
your friends;
there’s always that and worse;
leaky faucet, christ and christmas;
blue salami, 9 day rains,
50 cent avocados
and purple
liverwurst.

or making it
as a waitress at norm’s on the split shift,
or as an emptier of
bedpans,
or as a carwash or a busboy
or a stealer of old lady’s purses
leaving them screaming on the sidewalks
with broken arms at the age of 80.

suddenly
2 red lights in your rear view mirror
and blood in your
underwear;
toothache, and $979 for a bridge
$300 for a gold
tooth,
and china and russia and america, and
long hair and short hair and no
hair, and beards and no
faces, and plenty of zigzag but no
pot, except maybe one to piss in
and the other one around your
gut.

with each broken shoelace
out of one hundred broken shoelaces,
one man, one woman, one
thing
enters a
madhouse.

so be careful
when you
bend over.