I can’t believe I live in a world where the following comment card provided by a passenger to a stewardess would lead to a plane bound for Hawaii turning around and being escorted back to Oregon by two fighter jets and the passenger being charged with the federal crime of interference with the performance and duties of a flight crew member or attendant:

I thought I was going to die, we were so high up. I thought to myself: I hope we don’t crash and burn or worse yet landing in the ocean, living through it, only to be eaten by sharks, or worse yet, end up on some place like Gilligan’s Island, stranded, or worse yet, be eaten by a tribe of headhunters, speaking of headhunters, why do they just eat outsiders, and not the family members? Strange … and what if the plane ripped apart in mid-flight and we plumited (sic) to earth, landed on Gilligan’s Island and then lived through it, and the only woman there was Mrs. Thurston Howell III? No Mary Anne (my favorite) no Ginger, just Lovey! If it were just her, I think I’d opt for the sharks, maybe the headhunters.