October 13, 2023, T’aipei- Today was “short”, on the ground, due to having crossed the International Date Line, while flying here from San Francisco. In reality, the energy of Friday the 13th, to me always proactive, feminine- and never unlucky, played out in full-even as the clock, here in Taiwan’s capital, said it was 5:30 a.m., Japan-Taiwan Time, on October 14.

Most of it was spent in the air, above the Pacific Ocean, between the westernmost part of Alaska, (or which the International Date Line is significantly bent to the southwest, to accommodate the Aleutian Islands, and the easternmost part of Russian Siberia), and this resilient city that maintains its Mandarin Chinese character, while keeping developmental pace with its larger sibling to the west.

I’m tired, so this will be relatively brief. It is important to note that the quality of time spent in the air is just as important to character, as time spent in active pursuits on the ground. I chose three movies to view, each of which had life lessons to impart.

“Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny” was a sillier film than the first four, but does have a caution to impart about the consequences of unbridled ego-with the fate of a neo-Nazi “Second Fuhrer” inextricably linked, to his overaching desire to play God. Indy himself is questioned by his reconciled wife, as to whether he is “back”, emotionally and physically.

“Close”, a Belgian film about the innocent, ill-fated friendship between two adolescent boys, examines sexually-charged bullying, living one’s life through others, and the sometimes feckless behaviour of adults who befriend children and try to treat them as equals. It deals with the consequences of suicide for a community, head-on, and pulls no punches.

“The Little Things”, a recent Denzel Washington crime-solving vehicle, deals with remorse, insecurity in marriage and parenthood-especially of fathers relating to daughters, and of one or more unbridled egos,leading to the undoing of one miscreant-and maybe those of both of his nemeses.

This was the first half of my eighth trans-Pacific round trip. I spent it seated next to an intrepid, very large, woman, who is headed even further than me. As always has happened up to now, we looked out for one another-and for the flight attendants, who were always rushing about and, it seems, running into tired passengers who had to get up and move aside for one another. Oh, the joys of conflicting legitimate pursuits.

There were no bad guys on this plane-except on screen.