This is an ad for American Airlines.

An ad that I'm not being paid to write, believe it or not... Donna. Donna. Donna. Donna. Donna. Donna. Donna. Donna. Donna. Donna. Donna. Donna. Yesterday, I had every good intention in the world of making my flight to New York City. I booked it a couple weeks in advance, a miracle for a serial procrastinator. I packed the night before (not a half-assed packing, mind you, a full-assed packing where my suitcase was stuffed, zipped and ready to go). I even arrived at the BNA, Nashville's tiny but charming airport, with ample time to waltz through security, grab a coffee and settle into my seat with two gorgeous books I'm reading at the moment: [I'm Your Man: The Life of Leonard Cohen]( and [Empire of the Summer Moon](. The latter is about the Comanches going head to head with the Texas Rangers. I can't get through a single page of this narrative without a bead of sweat beginning to snake its way down my temple. Enraptured in this goddamn manuscript, five minutes passed. Then, ten minutes. Then, fifteen minutes. Then, twenty minutes. Suddenly, I looked up from my book, thinking "when the hell is this thing going to start boarding?" I pulled out my ticket to see if my gate had changed and to my horror, I had mistaken my seat # for my gate #. It was here that I slammed my books shut like a nerd that had just kicked ass in his seventh-period pre-calculus class. I stuffed them down into my dilapidated backpack made out of an old rice bag because I'm a fucking hipster and I high-tailed it in my heavy Red Wings to the gate numbered C17 (not seat number 8C). When I arrived, the gate was closed. Despite my idiocy, I must give myself credit here because a couple years back, this dipshit move would have sent me into an all-out spiral. (I suppose all this writing about reacting vs. responding is becoming more than just writing.) After a bit of searching, I sought out a woman by the name of Donna who works for American Airlines in Nashville, Tennesee and I told Donna that I had missed my flight because I was a dumbass and I mistook my seat number for my gate number. She looked at me, her head slightly tilted, her eyes soft with empathy, going to great lengths in her expression to show that she wasn't just listening to my clusterfuck but that she was dead set on solving it for me. Then, after I had finished explaining myself, she responded... "Honey, firstly, don't you feel at all embarrassed. This happens all the time. What's important is that there's another flight in two hours and I'm going to get you on that. Just hold tight one moment." Donna, the saint she is, disappeared behind her desk for a couple of minutes and then returned with a new printed ticket. She handed it to me and she said... "There. I even got you a good seat." Donna didn't ask me to whip out my credit card. She didn't ask me to fill out a form. She didn't discuss options to swap out my missed flight credit for this new flight, even though it was my fault. Nope. She just got me a new ticket (valued at $250!) and sent me on my way. While I don't believe this was Donna's intention, she turned me into an American Airlines customer for life (a customer that has spent well over $10k on air travel in the past couple of years) on half a dozen different airlines. From here on out, if I have an option to choose American Airlines, I'm choosing American Airlines and that's the end of it. I'm going to try and get this email in the hands of someone at American Airlines that can give Donna the recognition she deserves. But, something I want you and me to think about as we navigate this strange world where we must deal with customers and subscribers and readers who, at times, make mistakes and ask us to solve them, is to show them some grace. It's good business. But, more so, it's being a good human. But, digress. By [Cole Schafer](. [This is worth subscribing to.]( Here's a shortlist of the best books I've ever read. Before David Bowie died, he created a list of his 100 favorite books. Besides his music, I'd argue it was the most gorgeous gift he ever gave humanity. I'm still compiling my own list of 100. But, as of right now, here's my short-list of 22... 1. [On Earth we're briefly gorgeous]( by Ocean Vuong. 2. [Insomniac City]( by Billy Hayes. 3. [A farewell to arms]( by Ernest Hemingway. 4. [A moveable feast]( by Ernest Hemingway. 5. [On writing]( by Stephen King. 6. [The war of art]( by Steven Pressfield. 7. [Gates of fire]( by Steven Pressfield. 8. [Bird by bird]( by Anne Lamott 9. [Kitchen confidential]( by Anthony Bourdain. 10. [Dune]( by Frank Herbert. 11. [Ogilvy on advertising]( by David Ogilvy. 12. [City of thieves]( by David Benioff. 13. [What do you do with an idea?]( by Kobi Yamada. 14. [Redwall]( by Brian Jacques. 15. [The hobbit]( by J. R R. Tolkien. 16. [The graveyard book]( by Neil Gaiman. 17. [Slaughterhouse-five]( by Kurt Vonnegut. 18. [When breath becomes air]( by Paul Kalanithi. 19. [Heartburn]( by Nora Ephron. 20. [Still life of woodpecker]( by Tom Robbins. 21. [A Sport and a pastime]( by James Salter. 22. [Love is a dog from hell]( by Charles Bukowski. 23. [The Almanack]( of Naval Ravikant by Eric Jorgenson. By the way, every link above will take you to a site I was recently introduced to called The Bookshop, where I will be buying all of my books moving forward. They donate a chunk of every purchase to independent bookstores. And, well, I fucking love that. [Follow along as I get to 100.]( "Saying I love you is not the words I want to hear from you." I genuinely appreciate it when you all email me and tell me how much you love me. Seriously. However, if you ever find yourself with a little extra change in your pocket, I'd like to ask you to put your money where your mouth is by supporting me in one of the following ways... [Chasing Hemingway]( ($10), a newsletter about writing and life and how the two exist so magically together. [Snow Cones]( ($97), a short afternoon-sized guide that will teach you how to write words that sell like a Florida Snow Cone Vendor on the hottest day of the year. [$100k]( ($97), the same afternoon-sized guide as Snow Cones but about freelancing and how you can make money doing the stuff you're good at for others. [After Her]( or [One Minute, Please?]( ($25), my books of poetry and prose that have made big, burly, hairy-armed men cry on the bosoms of their lovers. Finally, if you're broke, you can always follow me on [Twitter]( or [Instagram]( or [my blog]( where I regularly sling-ink (for free). [Or, just buy me a damn drink.]( P.S. If this newsletter made you weak in the knees, you can share it with the world by selecting one of the four icons down below... 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