My Flock: to Japan!

Hell-o, Flock,

How would you all like to do Dear Leader a favor and fly to Japan tomorrow instead of Him? It would be third-class all the way. Just think: (hands spreading apart, beatific look in eyes, ray of sunshine beaming through window, almost-inaudible sound of reverberated angels)

Montreal to Chicago at 6:30 a.m.! Yes! Chicago! But security and immigration in Montreal! Then, haul bag off plane and change terminals! Security again! Shoes off, meine freunde, schnell schnell schnell! You're going to take a long shower now! Fritz, give that grandmother in the wheelchair an extra once-over -- I've seen their type before!

Oh, and now that most lovely of lovelies -- a fifteen-hour flight to Tokyo! With chickenorbeeformaybefish three times in a row!

But wait, Flock, there's more! Yes, Immigration, complete with fumbling for tickets, boarding cards, having fingerprints and eye scans, and then -- you guessed it! Check-in and security! Lugging all your shit to yet another gate! Another ass-numbing two-hour flight to Osaka!

Then, a new game: Find The Hotel! Yes, you get to use your Perfect Japanese for once in your life now. "Hey, Hiroshi, where's my gozaimashita hotel at? Awready got those. Don't touch my mustache."

Check in to hotel, go to your room and stay there for two nights. Then come back with a 7-year-old. Through New York.

Now, flock, don't jostle each other, keep an orderly lineup in single file down the hall and have your passports out for quick identifiction by my trained monkey, Gollum.