You know what’s crazy? I’ll tell you what’s crazy!
The paranoia going on at 28,000 feet.
Every time you turn on the news there are reports of an aircraft being diverted because of a suspicious passenger, an unruly passenger, a threatening passenger.
A gesture, a joke, a sorrowful look out the window as if a passenger is making his peace with God.
It doesn’t take much now-a-days for a flight crew to get the air marshals on your ass.
The next thing you know, you’re flight is on CNN landing in Davenport Iowa.
I understand taking off your shoes and screaming, Long Live Allah!
Some stands up and starts calling me an Infidel, then I’m fine with all the passengers beating his ass and sitting on your chest till we land in Peoria.
But now there are reports that ESP is causing flights to land. That’s right, Extra Sensory Perception.
What is this? Twilight Zone Airways?
According to published reports: a man reportedly suffering from religious delusions threatened to bring down a Quantas jet with the power of his mind.
Not a spoon! Not a paper clip? Not a garage door opener? HIS MIND!
I can’t even concentrate on a plane and this guy is going to ram us into Mt. McKinley with his thoughts.
It happened earlier this month on board Flight 31 from Sydney to Singapore
According to airline officials; 5 hours into the flight, the guy “threatened” to use his mind to bring down the Boeing 747.
Flight attendants restrained the man and handcuffed his arms and legs for the remainder of the flight.
What was he going to do? Stare at everyone real hard and make the guy in seat 7-B feel very uncomfortable.
Was he blinking too much? Was his perspiration too noisy? Was he wearing a 4 foot billy goat beard and a T-shirt that said Osama Bin Laden fan club?
Personally, I’d rather sit next to a guy trying to kill me with his mind than some sweaty fat dude fighting me for the arm rest.
I’d rather a guy wish bad things upon me quietly than the three year old behind me kicking my seat back for 5 hours.
We don’t need air marshals, we need AIR NANNY’S.
That’s right; Air Nanny’s. A group of cane wielding nun like child welfare experts who take control the minute a child takes over the plane.
You all know this scene.
The mother behind you has told Jr. to quiet down a hundred times. Jr. knows he is in a controlled environment where he has power to exert his will. He knows that there is only so much momma can do.
There are only so many gummy bears to calm him down? There are only so many colored pictures he can draw to distract him.
Pretty soon, it’s ON!
And Jr is kicking the back of your seat over and over and over. After a while it’s like you are inside a drum kit at a Metallica show.
And when he is not kicking your seat he is grabbing your seat back. Those gummy bear stained, booger coated fingers touching your head rest.
And when he is not grabbing your seat back he’s staring at you through the crack in the seats. His face says cute, but behind those big blue eyes, you see the inkling of the next Charles Manson.
You are left to grin and bear it or make a scene in the very controlled space that the mother has lost control of her own biological pile of flesh.
This is where Air Nanny’s come to the rescue.
The kid kicks your seat. No problem. You reach up and ring your Nanny button.
A mauve colored light illuminates and within moments, a woman with short hair and big librarian glasses is standing at your aisle. She is dressed in a business suit with a smock that says “Don’t F with me”
The woman has a stun mechanism and small restraining harness. She is dressed like an FBI agent who also teaches kindergarten.
“What seems to be the problem sir?,” the nanny says eye balling the 4 year old behind you.
You don’t have to even say a word. A simple roll of your eyes to the rear, tells the Air Nanny all she needs to know.
“Mam. Grab your child and accompany me please.”
The words are cold like sitting on a toilet seat made of ice.
“But, but, he’s only 4,” the mother’s words of disbelief trail off into the roar of the jet.
“If he wants to live to be 5, you’ll gather your belongings and follow me to the rear of the aircraft, please.”
And with that, the mother grabs her child’s arm and diaper bag and carry on crap and Mr. Binky and gets up.
“You see what you have done,” she says with a gasp.
The Air Nanny escorts the child and mother to the back of the plane where they will lay on the floor like Al Queda terrorists at Gitmo.
As they move back the plane erupts in applause. Adults recline their seats and open their lap tops without fear.
Wouldn’t that be nice.
No terrorism. No threats of ESP. No kids kicking you in the back of the seat.
Now if only we could get that flight with the topless SI models.
I’d pay extra for the headphones on that plane.
That would be crazy.