Go lean, young man.

Interesting news this morning that the automaker's bailout went south when the granddaddy of all the unions refused to consider lowering its workers wages in order to save their paychecks. Some may call this a game of bluff, but I think it's just more head-in-the-clouds thinking.

In my world, a small paycheck is better than no paycheck. It's as simple as that.

And to make things a little goofier, senate majority leader Harry Reid is offering up his sage wisdom and blaming the republicans for insisting that everybody, including the union workers, tighten their belts.

From where I view this thing, I believe that any kind of bailout is an incredible deal for the automakers. They've put themselves into this mess and we're funding the solution. Anything less than reasonable concessions from the unions means that this group thinks everything is business as usual - even when their hundreds of thousands of workers shoulder the risk of going home with no paycheck at all.

Captain. My Captain.

The voice came over the in-flight PA system clear as a bell. "Your flight officers for today's flight are captain Bjork and captain Bonkers." The door on the plane was already locked, I was strapped tightly into my seat and the plane was progressing nicely down the tarmac.

At that point, what could I do? Talk about your confidence boost.

Nothing instills the feeling of sheer safety more than hearing knowing who is at the wheel. And for someone who can be skittish about flying, the surnames that were just announced didn't help a bit. For me, it was kind of like hearing that Mr Salmonella would be serving my food. Or, better yet, Mr Slipperythumbs would be removing my gall bladder.

You get the drift.

So on this day, I was wedged into a commuter flight heading out with misters B &B at the helm leading us - hopefully - to the destination where we had paid with plastic to be delivered. Like I say, I have a "thing" about planes anyway.

Somewhere just before takeoff, my oversimplification of the event almost is my undoing. My thought goes something like this..."Let me get this straight. We are loading into a paper-thin aluminum tube, filled with humans and a combustibles. Our objective is to propell ourselves six miles above the ground, traveling about one hundred times faster than simple human locomotion, avoid nasty currents while traveling and then touch down on a little piece of asphalt that the pilots can lead us towards. Hopefully avoiding other aluminum-tube-filled-vehicles-full-of-people along the way."

Comforting.

But, Like every other flight I've ever taken, we took off, were offered a complementary soda, and landed without incident. So what do I know?