A Horrific End to this Journey? Not Quite. Read on . . .

I said the trip back down the mountain was going to be DIFFICULT. I did NOT say it was not going to be INTERESTING.

Even in a remarkably perverse way, when bad things happen, they can still be INTERESTING bad things.

But I like to stack the odds; I like to think that anything that is bad that CAN happen, WILL happen. I find that when I apply this logic to things such as a miserable trip back from Japan, I get a PERVERSE JOY when things that are bad and that I think are going to happen DON'T HAPPEN.

That makes me happy: "Hey I just dodged another bullet!" Or, "I managed to make it across that crevasse pretty well, in retrospect!"

And so it went yesterday.

The parting from my son was indeed a horrific feeling, a very bad event. But the moment it was over and my choices were taken away, I felt relieved. Then all I had to do was proceed to the next hurdle, which was getting to the airport, having a Strong Zero and writing an email to Brigitte explaining how horrible it had been to leave Tai-chan. Then I immediately felt better, again.

At check-in, I brushed off my tie, flashed my winningest smile and went into my "Check-in patter," as I like to call it. This little trick is to immediately try to differentiate myself from all the other passengers this agent has just seen or is going to see by surprising them. Now how many passengers do you think are going to lean over the curve of the agent's computer, pretending to do a spot check of availability, and then say "Any chance of an upgrade this morning?"

When there is no reply, I move in for the kill. "Look at this tie," I say. "Is this not a COOL tie?" She immediately looks at the tie and smiles. I then say, "How do you like my pink jacket? I'm always afraid people are going to think I'm weird for wearing a pink jacket, but usually they seem to like it! I always wear it when I fly because I don't want to look like a slob."

And she comments how it's a great jacket. "Don't I look like a pop star?," I say. "A J-Pop star!" (this is what the Japanese call their pop stars.) This immediately elicits a giggle.

And I am sent on my way to security and the boarding gate.

But, three minutes before boarding, an announcement is made over the PA. Will Mr. Nicholas Robinson please come to the desk? Hmm, I think, yes, Mr. Nicholas Robinson definitely WILL come to the desk.

Out comes a hand with a smile, and there it is: a minty-fresh boarding pass to replace the stinky one I am holding.

"Upgrade!" she smiles.

And so it is!! An upgrade to first class for the desperate 14-hour cattlethon!

Champagne as I sink back into my high-tech chair! Filet mignon with dinner! White wine! Dessert! With real cutlery!

Just because I wore a pink jacket.

Even the horror that was JFK could not undo THAT gift from the gods.

So here I am . . . in my chair, home again. Unfortunately my cheap ball-point black pen leaked into the pocket of my pink jacket, rendering it unwearable.

Fate wasn't going to let me off the hook THAT easy.

Pictures of China Airlines: First Class to follow.