SLE #fundie webcache.googleusercontent.com

This post is very interesting to me, as I’ve had the same experience that others here, including Squire Western, have shared. Just last month, I had a 6:00 a.m. flight from Rochester, New York to Charlotte, North Carolina. While I waited at the gate, I saw two attractive young ladies dressed in pilot’s uniforms approach the counter. I was surprised at how young they seemed, and I could not take seriously the notion of them as pilots. I had seen female pilots before, but only as co-pilots, or otherwise teamed with men. As I was already anxious about the icy weather and wanted to get home, I felt relief when they turned away and headed toward another gate. I was filled with the sense of how silly it was to see these two, dressed like men with shirt and tie, pilot’s caps, lesser facsimiles of the real thing. I hearkened back to a flight long ago when I was 13, and a pilot named Captain Doubleday, whose voice came over the intercom: stern, masculine, an air of experience, yet friendly; a serious man in a serious line of work. This was comforting to a young boy who admired that captain to the point of remembering his name to this day.
When I boarded the plane about 45 minutes later, my concern renewed as I saw the two girls in the cockpit of my plane. It was a cold morning that required a de-icing treatment to the plane, and when the “captain” announced our take-off delay in her soft, elvish, girlish voice, I felt a wave of panic. Although I had awakened very early that morning with only around three hours of sleep due to a late company “Holiday” party (the holiday of course being CHRISTMAS), I did not sleep a wink during my two-hour plus flight back to Charlotte. I constantly worried, “What if there’s an emergency? How will these girls respond? Will they be able to pull a Sully Sullenberger move with his stern, calm, decisive resolve and save us if necessary? Where did they get their training? Why do both pilots have to be women? What the heck is going on here?!?” And how silly it seemed again after take-off, when the co-pilot’s voice came on in affected male “pilot” tones and inflection to make the typical announcements of flight time, weather, “enjoy the flight,” etc. I was petrified until the plane landed and my feet were on the ground.

Did they fly the plane? Yes. Did we make it in one piece? Yes. But as others have articulated, it’s not about that. It’s about an intangible sense that this just isn’t right. And among all the other concerns I have as a single father in this degenerating country, I continue to notice the upside-down world my boys will grow up in. Aging men in their fifties or obvious homosexuals are now my “flight attendant,” not stewardess, providing no genuine feminine care and comfort to weary travelers, and sexy little girls are my “captain” and co-pilot. Let me off this ride.

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Confused?

So were we! You can find all of this, and more, on Fundies Say the Darndest Things!

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