Welcome

Friends,

I miss New Zealand: the mountains, the colors, the people, and the wild. It was a place that changed my life in many ways, the foremost being my appreciation for beauty.

Beauty is an end in itself: it is glorious and good.

It is also dwarfing. Among my biggest learnings from our “life” in Wellington was how much of the things I care about really do not matter very much. To be sure and clear, there are some very important things in my life: those things matter a lot. But most of the things in my life matter very little.

It is hard to stand before old mountains so majestic they bring you to tears at the goodness of God (real life: this happened to me more than once while traveling New Zealand) and not see your circumstances differently.

I am steering into the theological and philosophical, so for the sake of brevity I will simply say I am very grateful to miss New Zealand.

And I am very grateful for the AAdvantage miles that took us all there.

Let’s get going.

Links

Great business class fare from North America to India.

A bit more detail on American’s 787 diversion to Rome yesterday, with helpful commentary from Ben Schlappig on his blog.

Ryanair telling the truth.

Story

Two days ago I met someone from Tokyo who currently lives in Texas. When asked how he liked Dallas, his unassuming response was, “well, you need a car here”.

That statement is pregnant with cultural insight: I found it absolutely brilliant.

Whether you love automobiles or not, it is hard to deny that they alter one’s sense of place. And this is not all bad. Cars create near-seamless connection, give autonomy, and drive economic growth that is all their own. My family has one car, and I enjoy it. It provides transportation that otherwise would be costly, inconvenient, or impossible for our residential American pursuits.

Living in Melbourne, we had no need of a car. Our house was on a tram line, had fast access to their urban rail network, and could take the bus in a pinch. Whether going to the beach on Saturday, riding to church on Sunday, or heading to a meeting downtown it was hard to ignore the collective: the hundreds of others also riding along, each to their own destination.

Whether a part of something bigger or not, the repeated experience gently reminded me that I am one of many and uniquely so.

I was surprised to find this being in the collective often slowed me down and made me kinder. I took more in, and literally thought about others more often.

I could go on, and make no mistake these are the casual observations of a foreigner. But I was grateful for what happened when I did not need a car.

There was a time when I thought similarly about luggage: that it would be great to not need luggage. A wife plus two children later and I am happy to admit I was wrong. I not only need luggage, but it is good to pack the right things in bags that can carry it all.

Luggage can be over-influenced by popularity and price.

Only thanks to my wise and well-traveled aunt did I gain a better perspective on baggage (and life): buy what will last. Almost twenty years after getting my first Briggs and Riley bag, it is all I use for the purposes of checking and carrying on.

My original B&R bag still looks great, if not a little worn. All of my hand luggage is from Barrington: they are an amazing company and they make great stuff.

Big Picture: Buy what lasts. When it comes to luggage, this has meant Briggs and Riley and Barrington for me. Going on twenty years now, I am grateful for both brands.

Fly well today.

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Remember, this life you are living has meaning (and we all have our own baggage).

-Tommy