I work for a major airline, which I’ve done for 27 years, and if you know anything about the airline business, you’ll understand me when I say that over years of time an airport can become your second home and the people you work with become your second family.
Relationships in an airline environment can span decades. Some of the guys I work with have been on the same crew for over twenty years, so it’s not hard to imagine how closely knit the friendships can become.
Too closely knit, sometimes. Like having 35 brothers.
Once word gets out about anything personal, the gossip channels are dialed in and news spreads like wildfire. (Yes, men are just as bad as women.)
Sharing the exciting news about 2012, the golden age, ETs, meditation, spirituality and the eventual liberation of our planet was something that I knew should be handled discretely and quietly.
And I tried to keep it discrete and quiet, but naturally, that didn’t last long.
Over the two-way radios we use, the theme from “Close Encounters of the Third Kind” is heard regularly.
On my locker is a small drawing of a space craft with the words, “Beam me up, Scotty.”
Almost every morning I get this greeting, “Hey, V___, you still here? I thought you got taken on board last night!”
Alien women come up in conversation, like, “You know, V___, two earth women and two divorces. Maybe you should try an alien next time.”
Remember the sound effect for the ET signal from the movie “Contact?” That gets wide radio play.
Offers for making tin foil hats are common.
Many comments are made about how these kinds of delusions can be successfully treated with new and wonderful psychiatric meds.
In my email inbox I’ve seen a parade of images pulled from the internet: space craft, greys, Roswell artifacts, conspiracy theory photos, tabloid front pages, hybrids, cryptic writing and several videos of amazingly bad hoaxed UFO flights.
In the spirit of good-natured brotherly teasing, all that is dished out I take very well.
Oh, so soon…
There’s gonna be some payback!
I can’t wait.