Yeah, below is what @AirCanada has to say when I make a claim following the procedure with which they told me to based on my below post.
After I already went to them on email 3 weeks ago.
I never do this, but please repost my original post below far and wide. These socialist dirtbags need to pay for their incompetence, for both me and the 300 other passengers they screwed over. The whole world needs to know how disreputable this company is to paying customers.
@DutchRojas It’s a great book. It talks about how you go from fluid intelligence to crystallized intelligence as you age, you gain more wisdom and you’re not as quick as you were when you were young. I recommend it.
I just left my parents' house when something stronger than habit turns the car toward the roads of my past. I find myself driving past our old house—the house where my children grew up, the house that once held all our daily noise.
As I slow down, the evening air breaks open with a sound that folds time completely in half: "Fresh lemonade! Come get your fresh lemonade!"
There, right beside our old home, stands a young mother and her three little girls. In a single heartbeat, I am ten years back. I see my own life standing on that sidewalk. The nostalgia hits so hard it brings tears to my eyes.
I don’t actually want lemonade. I pull over anyway and hand the girls a few dollars, just to bless their little spark of ambition. But the evening isn't finished with me. The mother, smiling, presses warm cookies into my hands, fresh from her oven.
"What's your name?" I ask.
"Noosha," she says.
I freeze. My wife's name is Nooshin.
Then the oldest girl looks at me with the seriousness only a child can summon and tells me I cannot leave empty-handed—I have to take a cup. In Farsi we say, "An unrequested drink is a blessing from heaven." So, I accept the blessing.
As I shift back into drive, the mother waves and calls out, "Shabbat Shalom!"
Driving into the fading light, sipping a drink I never asked for but somehow desperately need, a quiet truth settles over me and raises the hair on my arms.
We don't really own anything in this life.
We don't own our homes—we are tenants, filling rooms with noise until the next family comes to write its own chapters. We don't own our husbands or wives. We don't own our children; they are whole souls, lent to us for one short, holy season. The walls change hands. The children grow and go. The only things we truly carry out of this world are the memories we gathered, the love we gave away, and the way we made people feel along the road.
This is the heartbeat of this week's Torah portion. Balaam is hired to curse the Jewish people, but when he looks down at their camp, a blessing pours out instead: "How goodly are your tents, O Jacob, your dwellings, O Israel." Not goodly because of the bricks—goodly because of what happens inside them: the welcome, the warmth, the open door.
And all through this portion, the people are moving. Miriam is buried. Aaron is buried. The tents come down, the cloud lifts, and Israel walks on. The Torah keeps whispering the same thing: the structures are temporary. The holiness was never in the walls. It lives in the hospitality, in a small kindness on a Friday afternoon, in the love we leave behind.
Like an unrequested drink that turns into an unexpected blessing, God sets these moments on our path to remind us what is eternal.
I went looking for a ghost outside an old house. Instead, a woman named Noosha and her three daughters hand me a glimpse of the Divine. They remind me that time marches forward without mercy—but goodness stays anchored.
To the strangers who become angels on our path, and to the homes that shelter our memories long after we are gone:
Shabbat Shalom.
Chemistry tells you how a relationship feels today, but values tell you how long it will last.
In love, most of us are trained to look for chemistry. Every love story we grow up with runs on it: two people who strike sparks, suffer beautifully, and somehow arrive at a wedding. Chemistry is exciting. It gets our attention. But sparks only ever report on the present moment. They can't tell you much about what a relationship will look like a year from now, let alone fifty.
When I was 24, I fell for a woman a year older than me. She had never set foot in the United States. She didn't speak a word of my language, and I didn't speak a word of hers. By any measure a dating app would use today, we had almost nothing in common.
And yet, we have four grandchildren now.
Over the years, we disagreed about all sorts of things. We came from different countries, different cultures, and had different temperaments and preferences. But beneath all of that, we shared the same fundamental values. We were both willing to build something together and tell each other the truth along the way.
That mattered more than everything else.
In fact, many superficial differences are part of what makes a relationship interesting. They give a marriage texture. They create opportunities to learn, adapt, and grow. Different values, however, create a fault line. And that's something chemistry can conceal for a surprisingly long time.
The couples who last are usually pointed in the same direction from the beginning. Then they spend years discovering each other's surface. They go through arguments, repairs, disappointments, and seasons when the chemistry changes shape. But underneath it all, there is a friendship that endures, with passion still woven into it.
Heavenly Father,
We lift up the crew of the B-52 and all who loved them. Surround them with Your mercy, Your strength, and Your peace that surpasses all understanding.
For those who serve beside them, grant courage in the face of sorrow, steadfastness in duty, and comfort in the bonds of friendship and service. For their families and friends, hold them close in the shelter of Your love. Ease their grief, quiet their fears, and remind them that they do not walk this road alone.
We pray for their squadronmates, commanders, and fellow airmen who carry on the mission while bearing the weight of loss. Give them wisdom, resilience, and the support of one another as they honor their brothers and sisters in arms.
Lord, receive those who have gone before us into Your eternal care. May perpetual light shine upon them, and may their service, sacrifice, and memory never be forgotten.
Grant all who mourn the promise of hope, the comfort of faith, and the assurance that love endures beyond this life.
We ask this through Christ our Lord.
Amen. 🇺🇸✝️🙏🏼
“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” — Psalm 34:18
A dear friend of mine, and someone many of you know, was recently diagnosed stage 4 lung cancer.
He is being seen at Sloan, which is great.
I've been reading about new treatments, particularly with AI.
I know nothing about this stuff.
But I desperately want to help a buddy and know I have a bunch of smart, powerful people in my audience.
If there's anyone out there that thinks they can point him into a helpful directly, please email me: [email protected].
And Sweden from the top ropes. This is peak twitter. Swedish gal comes to the us for the first time for World Cup, chronicles her journey with optimism and awe. Hell yeah. I hope she finds a buc-ees, a proper ny deli Reuben, and a packed local pub with live music.
my entire timeline now is just two German dudes here for the World Cup experiencing America in all its normal beauty and it’s truly the greatest thing to ever happen to my feed
I was going to charge for this, but f*** it.
My team just put together a 40+ page report of everything we’re seeing right now in the small biz economy.
What’s inside:
→ Real market data on SBA lending
→ Business buyer demand trends
→ Data on the ownership succession gap
→ An inside look at what small businesses are doing with AI right now
We’ve spent months doing hundreds of surveys and interviewing dozens of owners to put this together.
Now it’s yours for free.
Just:
1. Like this post
2. Comment “SMB”
And I’ll send it over.
(Make sure you’re following me so I can DM you.)