From a Christian Science Monitor story about how flying is safer than ever (at least in terms of surviving airline crashes):

Indeed, one pilot makes sure that her passengers know that the flight attendants are not "cocktail waitresses."

"Their primary job is to be a first responder, and they will be the ones to save your lives if there's a problem," says the pilot, who's not authorized to speak to the press.

There are female pilots? Have you ever seen one? I'm delighted, of course, but newly amazed every time I step into an airport what a funny time machine it is. Despite the obvious and sensible improvements in hiring practices for flight attendants, many of them still cupcakes of one gender or another, the airport hierarchy is as strict as a kingdom's: suave, handsome, overwhelmingly white pilots who are such untouchable gods they'll give you the company smile in the plane but startle like pigeons if you make eye contact in the palace halls; the stewardesses (the word hasn't quite slipped away) with great legs and white or light skin their looks counterparts, knowing bait, and confident, dutiful attendants; the uniformed cleaners, plane-stockers, and security with varying degrees of proprietary authority; and, of course, us, the sweatpanted schlubs. Anyway, I'm sure I could read no end of reports about advances in racial and gender equality in the industry, but still, it's all kinds of trips to feel like you're half in the Mall of America and half in Catch Me If You Can whenever you fly. Cinnabon, meet Steinem!