If anyone can spot this damned Malaysian airplane, Tattoo can! I used to see him spotting airplanes every Friday night right there in my living room. Soon afterward, Mr. Rourke would be his usual charming self, telling all the arriving passengers and guests to his Fantasy Island: “Smiles, everyone…smiles!”
More seriously, I understand the reasoning behind such a highly publicized and highly funded search in which various governments are willfully participating as the officials in charge of Malaysia Airlines are trying to tell understandably and rightfully concerned family members of the missing passengers: “Smiles, everyone…smiles!” But these worriers want no part of that! One of these concerned and angry family members said: “F#*% Malaysia Airlines!” Can you blame him? I certainly can’t.
The way that Malaysia Airlines handled this disaster from the start was a total disaster itself. I heard a news report that all next-of-kin were notified via text message! Unbelievable! I would pay good money (if my novel sales were quite better!) to see just what that text message actually said. Let’s face it! How do you word a text message that basically conveys: “We are sorry to inform you, but your loved one will not be arriving on schedule. They may not be arriving at all. Because right now, they are likely feeding the fishes with what is left of their water-logged corpses.”
Please don’t get me wrong! I am sympathetic to these families and can totally understand and partially feel their hurt and anger toward the airlines and this whole mess for which it is responsible. But what I cannot understand is who came up with the bright idea to notify these people by text! I mean, this is not cell phone minutes we are talking about, but peoples lives!
So now the world’s humanitarians are tasked with finding the plane, or the wreckage of it, most likely in the Indian Ocean. If my family had been on that flight, then I would want them to continue the search until it was found. But what are the true chances that we will find this downed aircraft in the first place? Let’s face it. The world is more than 75 percent water, so — if you were a betting person — what would you wager happened to that plane? And wouldn’t finding it be liffle more likely than finding a nun in a brothel?
I can tell you with 100 percent certainty what didn’t happen to it: It did not touch down on Fantasy Island to be spotted by Tattoo and greeted by Mr. Rourke.