When good plans go awry

In early April, I booked a flight to Germany for mid-July after days of checking travel websites for the best possible connections. Since there are no more direct flights to Europe from Pittsburgh, I knew I had to make a connection at least once. I finally decided to use the same airline I had used twice before, with one exception: they now offered a second daily flight from Frankfurt to Detroit in the afternoon. This would enable me and my driver to sleep in and avoid the morning rush hour near Frankfurt. The fact that it was cheaper than the morning flight didn't hurt either, or so I thought.
Yesterday morning, however, I received an e-mail with a change of schedule. Instead of flying from Frankfurt to Detroit and then on to Pittsburgh, the airline now wants to send me via Amsterdam - Memphis - Pittsburgh. Memphis? Amsterdam? I looked at the itinerary in disbelief. Did I book three months in advance for this? And I thought Chicago or Charlotte were too far out of my way! A child with a dart could have just thrown it at a map of the United States and pick a better layover point. Also, my first flight would leave before 11:00 a.m. so I would have to leave during rush hour.
I called the airline. The customer service representative was very nice, but he didn't have any other seats available. Apparently the flight I had picked has been canceled and now they're scrambling to book people on other flights. The rep suggested that I check back if anything opens up and assured me that I would be able to make my connection in Memphis. What annoys me the most is that I will have to walk through four airports in one day with my newly recovered knee.
I have never experienced an itinerary change like this before, although I came close back in 1979 when I first came to the U.S. with a folk dance group. We were 39 people for the return trip from St. Louis via New York. Unfortunately, none of us had remembered to confirm our flight back from New York to Frankfurt. When we arrived at the ticket counter, they only had 13 seats available. A powwow followed and it was decided to give these seats to the farmers and married couples. I was among the second batch of 10 or 12 seats that miraculously became available so I missed what followed next. Our president told the musicians to unpack their accordions and the dancers started dancing in the check-in area. Within minutes, the distraught airline reps cried, "Everybody on board!"
Perhaps I should try something similar when I'm taking the grand tour, but I'm afraid my dancing days are over.