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LA RE Congress

A President You'll Want to Meet

Presidents’ Day Weekend is always a great time to travel, especially if you live in the blustery North and winter has begun to wear on one’s spirit.  I do not live in the North.  We have not seen snow in Georgia all year.  But we did have one day in recent memory where it was 12 degrees and I am a weakling.  That day alone was enough for me to book my ticket for sunny southern California. 

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home

More Important Matters

While all the children were nestled “snug in their beds” with “visions of sugar plums dancing in their heads,” I am imagining that you struggled to sleep throughout the holiday anxiously awaiting news as to whether Delta had regranted me my airline status for 2024.  Well, yes, Autumn, there really is a Santa Claus.  I woke on Christmas morn to discover that I had crossed that ever-so-difficult-to-figure-out magical line.  (Hint to Delta: You could make your strange algorithm for counting miles wayyyyy more clear for Skymiles members.)

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Comfort Texas

The Comfort+ Quest Continues

Before I launch into today’s newsletter, I have a request from my friend Autumn to include a correction to my last newsletter.  In response to the grave crisis I faced regarding the potential loss of my Delta status and my quest to find 1500 more miles before the end of the month, she wants you to know that she did not say, “You have lost your mind.”  Rather she said, “Are you bats?#$t crazy?!?”  Autumn does not feel that the way I recorded our conversation earlier conveys the profound depth of her concern for my sanity.

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David and Goliath

Waking Up Goliath

For some time now, you have heard me hint of this elusive podcast that I’m launching.   I’ve kept suggesting that my next newsletter would include a link to the first episode.  But weeks… okay, months… have gone by with neither hide nor hair of said episode. 

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salmon run

The Run of the Salmon

I began writing this newsletter at 2:13 a.m., on a red eye flight from Calgary to Atlanta. Even though it was the middle of the night, my internal clock was so messed up it hardly seemed to matter anymore and I was filled with enthusiasm for the week I had just spent on Vancouver Island. I had lots to say.

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Auburn cemetery

In the Hands of God

The day of my great revelation began – quite literally – in HELL.

It began when I awoke from a night of restless, sweaty doses of sleep to find myself stuffed, with three other college exchange students, in the backseat of a rusting taxi… still.

It began with the loud squawking of chickens and a vendor pounding on the dusty window, sliding plastic watches from China through the crack at the top of the pane.