At 1:30 am on the 2nd of January, we woke up (or perhaps more accurately briefly regained enough consciousness to rouse our children) and dragged our suitcases to the front while Murphy did his best impression of an NFL offensive lineman trying to protect the door. He has this intuitive sense for the illegal chop block. At some point in that transition, I managed to break my only belt and spent fifteen minutes blearily trying to put it back together while Amy hissed "are you still messing around with that damn belt? For the love of God, either suck it in or grab some duct tape to hold your pants up."
Then we had to say goodbye to Murph. From his expression, I thought he seemed to understand that we would not be "right back."
Our driver arrived and we set off. Five minutes out, I realized with a chill that I'd forgotten something important. Not my passport. Not my credit cards. My reading glasses. As sad as it is, at fifty-two, reading glasses represent one of the most crucial survival mechanisms for a twenty two hour transit. Not to mention a four month sentence with your family.
Made it through baggage without issue. We all look pretty happy in this shot, though Amy does look like she's bracing herself for a dose of ECT. I asked her if she wanted me to retake this shot because her eyes were closed. She said "That was on purpose. I was pretending we were either already there or that you were sitting several rows behind us."
Our five hour layover in Detroit was spent trying to remember why we wanted to be in close proximity to each other for four months. That three bedroom closet was beginning to seem awfully small in my mind. Unfortunately, our family deals with sleep deprivation in different and mutually exclusive ways. Lily does her best impression of a surly zombie who blames Tessa for everything. Tessa does her best impression of a chipmunk on cocaine. I do my best impression of a single guy sitting next to a crazy family.
Finally in our seats ....
Amy asking 'was this a mistake?' for the fifth time.
Tessa saying "mistake?! I knew it. You guys don't have any idea what you're doing, do you?"
Me saying "Wait just a second. I'm in the wrong seat. I got that last second upgrade to business class."
Lily reading.
Fourteen hours seems like a long time until you are into your third hour (and fourth craft IPA) and your wife leans over and grips your forearm in a death grip and says "your daughter is driving me insane," when it seems like a really really long time and a really really bad idea. That's when you go to the back of the plane and tell the steward that you need two glasses of chardonnay and any other central nervous system depressants they might have on hand. You should use words like 'stat' or 'did you see the lady in 44E?'
Over the course of that fourteen years (not a typo, that's how long it felt) ...
Lily watched the Meg and Jaws (for the fifth time). This from the girl who told us that she's really afraid of sharks while flying over the Pacific.
Tessa selected Cinderella, Clueless, Legally Blonde.
Amy went high brow and watched Emma and another Brit drama she can't remember.
I went full dystopian. I watched Matrix 4, Parasite, and Nope.
You can see why family movie night is like electing a speaker to the House.
None of us took any pictures the rest of our trip. What I remember through the haze of fatigue is that we disembarked to find scores of airport employees trying to hand out pink pamphlets that I initially mistook for an invitation to a religious service involving Kool-aid or an ad for a great deal on crypto (FTX FTW!). It turned out that they were essential documents that certified we had been vaccinated. Despite that, immigration and customs were a breeze.
What was not a breeze? Currency. We quickly learned that Japan is largely a cash based society and we brought zero yen. No problemo! Before we left we ascertained that we did in fact remember our ATM pin #s. However, after ten failed withdrawal attempts and a finger bruised from jabbing the English button on the screen, I developed a sneaking suspicion that a) credit union ATM cards do not work in Japan, or b) I was trying to withdraw money from a slot machine. The truth was even sadder. In an effort to protect us, our credit union determined that we were North Korean hackers and put a freeze on our account.
Prevent Fraud! Choose Dirigo.
