05.20.25 | SEA>ICN>BKK

Sleep is also impossible in the air. I try. Earnestly. The most I manage is three hours skimming the unconscious. Not enough for over 24 hours of total travel time. Movies transport me instead. I don’t know the number of movies I have watched flying over the Pacific. It’s an opportunity to catch up on things missed and take chances on things I’d never consider. I remember watching Lars and the Real Girl and being moved despite the odd premise. I remember being baffled and annoyed by The Tree of Life and nearly writing it off until I saw it again on a proper screen.

My parents dedicated precious space in the crate to a box of VHS tapes when they moved us to Thailand. The Aristocats, Toy Story, piecemeal recorded episodes of Star Trek: The Next Generation. We wore these tapes out and mourned their passing once the humidity inevitably allowed mold to grow. The library of tapes would be replaced and grown with each visit to the States. Then converted to a new format--first to VCD, then to DVD.

Movies were family time. They wound the day down. We would crowd into one of the few rooms with air-conditioning, usually our parents’ bedroom, with plates of dinner and watch a movie we’d seen tens of times over on a small CRT TV. Often, there would be an intermission for bowls of ice cream.

The flight to Thailand is a spiral of new movies, futile sleep, and bibimbap--unfortunately protracted when I learned at the baggage claim in Bangkok my luggage was delayed. My suitcase was put on the flight behind mine. Then there is the hour-long taxi ride to the north side of the city. And finally, well past midnight on Wednesday, May 21st, I am able to shower and crawl into a real bed.