A toast to Steven Slater

TODAY, WE raise a glass to Steven Slater, the JetBlue flight attendant who gave a vicarious thrill to workers across Great Recession America.

Steven, when the light dinged on in your head that you were now free to tell off that rude passenger, pop open the emergency exit and just slip-slide away, you did more than fulfill your own long-held fantasy.

Thanks to you, Steven, flight attendants are walking those narrow aisles today with a swagger, and air travelers are making eye contact with them to let them know "you won't have any trouble from me."

You taught America that our working-class heroes can be gay--badass gay at that. You escaped from the airport, raced home and jumped into bed with your boyfriend, which is how the police found you. That is ridiculously cool.

You've showed us that solidarity via Facebook can force media wiseasses to take their narrative (New York Daily News Day 1: "Planely Nuts") and shove it (New York Daily News Day 2: "Hero to Working Stiffs.")

Finally, Steven Slater, we toast you because before you left that plane, you stopped and grabbed a couple of beers from the beverage cart.

That's what gave your freakout some flair. It transformed what you did from postal to rebel.

With or without the beers, we still would have identified with your rage. But frosty ones made the difference between our saying, "Damn, I wish I could do that," rather than "Lord, I hope that's not me in five years." Taking the tallboys signaled that you weren't a rampaging maniac--just a guy saying, "No job is worth this shit."

Those are six powerful words that bear repeating. No Job Is Worth This Shit. You don't hear them too often right now, when folks haven't been able to find work for two years.

Steven, what you did felt like a throwback to the 1970s--like something Lily Tomlin would have done in Nine to Five, or Johnny Fever in WKRP in Cincinnati. Back in the '70s, Ronald Reagan was just a nutty governor and downsizing wasn't a word. Being an American worker didn't mean having your ass handed to you every day--it meant clocking in with your head high and your middle finger ready.

Here's what I mean. In 1972, autoworkers in Lordstown, Ohio, went on a strike that wasn't about money or benefits--they didn't have too many complaints about that. No, what they were pissed about was assembly-line speedups. The local union president told Studs Terkel, author of the oral history Working, that members were striking for the right to be "able to smoke, bullshit a bit, open a book, daydream even."

Can you imagine anybody doing that today? Imagine the picket line chants: "No YouTube? No Peace!"

Steven, you reminded workers in America that the bankers and CEO's haven't always gotten their way in this country without a fight. That's why even talk show hosts like Jimmy Fallon are writing ballads about you.

Of course, not everybody has a sense of humor about what you did. Incredibly, you face up to seven years in jail for reckless endangerment and criminal mischief. Come on. The only thing you endangered was $25,000 of JetBlue's money, which apparently is what it costs to replace the emergency slide.

SPEAKING OF JetBlue, no one seems to be talking about its role in all this, or the industry as a whole.

The combination of profit-seeking and terrorism paranoia has made air travel a delightful experience. We're packed into tiny seats like mindless cattle only minutes after our shoes have been given a search worthy of a world-class criminal. Rude passengers are inevitable in this situation, and yet airlines let their flight attendants be human shields to face the cabin crackpots.

For example, a few years ago, one of your co-workers, Mala Amarsingh hadn't even started work when she was verbally assaulted and spat on by a drunken man who had been denied a seat on previous flights. What did JetBlue do to defend its employee? It fired her, officially because she dared to curse at her assailant. Want to know the unofficial reason? Because Mala Amarsingh thought JetBlue flight attendants should join a union.

With that in mind, I'll end my toast with a question. What now, Steven Slater? The same pundits who initially dismissed you assume that you're a passing fad, whose only shot at lasting significance is landing a spot on a reality TV show. After all, they say, things have changed since autoworkers went on strike over smoke breaks.

Indeed, they have. But, Steven, your popularity shows that people haven't changed that much. As often as we're told differently, we still can't get it into our heads that we're only as good as our production quota or evaluation form.

So here's to you, Steven and here's to you Mala Amarsingh, and here's to all the JetBlue flight attendants still talking union. When you guys finally win, we'll all raise two beers in your honor.