Up early, packed on time – no mean feat. But of course I’d decided to fly in suit and tie, so I didn’t have to un- or re-pack nearly anything.

After standing in the immigration queue for what seemed like forever, I walked to the United buiness lounge, where I finally wrote those postcards I’d bought in Gifu. We’ll see if they make it: I didn’t drop them off, but only handed them to the service personnel at the lounge.

The flight was long. Oh bother was it long. Had I been a bit more ambitious I would have finished the fourth movie instead of being cut off by the long-winded pilot five minutes before the end. Fortunately, I chose a fairly inane movie for my last one and have a reasonable guess at what becomes of the Wild Hogs.

The other three movies could be one of the best trios I’ve ever seen on a plane. “The Bridge to Terabithia,” while at the end a bit manipulative, does strike a lot of right notes and, almost ironically, praises the absence of television. “Children of Men” is dark, a brooding and pessimistic view of the future of humanity if we’re left to our own devices. “Das Leben der Anderen” is about an East German secret police member who’s assigned to spy on a dramatist and his actress girlfriend and changes as a result of what he sees. Excellent acting there, especially on the part of the spy.

I also spent a little bit of time writing on the plane, mostly in reaction to a comment to one of Janet’s blog entries. It’s the twelfth comment. The result is amusing but not particularly brilliant, making it just the thing to post on the internet. I titled it “Mizzouse in da Hizzouse.”  I still think it’s pretty grouse.
We arrived a few minutes early, but not enough to make it on the 16:04 train to Basel. So I spent my time reading Dostoyevsky again until the 17:04 came, and continued on the train. I’m two-thirds through and still don’t like Raskolnikov. That makes it hard to like the book, but Dostoyevsky’s ideas are interesting enough to keep me going.

I’m back, but instead of unpacking I’ve worked on posting that short story. I did shed my suit jacket and tie, but I’m still in my dress pants and white starched shirt. It’s time to get to bed.

Oh, the title. It was a label stuck at the immigration on a desk with a document holder. Hmm, I wonder why there was no Japanese language label?