​Buying an atlas expands your world. It teaches you new and unexpected things, too, about how the world changes and how quickly.
 
I like navigating the old way, using a map to find out where I’m going. It allows me to explore the big picture and figure things out on my own. It’s an awesome feeling.
 
Preparing to move, I recently passed on our ancient (2011) road atlas to our son Kirby, who got my dad’s car after he passed away. Lacking a cover, and with some missing and water-logged pages, I gave it to him solemnly, so he can have it to serve as back-up in his GPS electronic-fueled universe. I hope he is forced to use it at some point, and he is prepared, as I had him navigate for me many times on trips through its pages. He now accesses his smart phone to direct me when I get lost, but what the heck, I tried.
 
The 2011 version was in need of replacement anyway, as the 2017 version was ready with all those new streets under construction in the United States. The atlas keeps up, just not as quickly as going online or by using Google.
 
As I cleaned out the back of my car for the trip north, I pulled out battery chargers, a first-aid kid, reusable grocery bags, reading glasses, my 25 favorite CDs, my sports chair and cheering cone. My life as it existed. Underneath, I unearthed two books that contained hundreds of pages in the Dallas-Ft. Worth (DFW) metro area – atlases that were dynamite and necessary 10 years ago, maybe even 5, to find out where you were headed in this massively morphing metropolis.
 
Now those two books are pretty much useless. Not even I would buy them, which says a lot. The company that prints them might not be out of business if enough older people exist who won’t use a form of electronic navigating, but I can’t imagine that market is large enough for them to continue publishing a paper version.

It was odd pulling these books out and dumping them in the recycling bin. The two copies I had were the second version I’d bought since moving to DFW in 2004. Roads are built so quickly here that the original ones were out-of-date within five years (probably even sooner if we want to look at it realistically), so you had to replace them.
Then, with the onslaught of the Internet, Google and GPS, whammo, they were obsolete. Something previously very necessary disappeared very quickly.
 
The books sat in the back of my car for several years. I could not remember the last time I opened them.  They made me nostalgic.  And they were probably only 7-years-old, maybe 8. Obsolescence ratchets up.
 
Most of our possessions hold long-term value in our lives, or at least we have some fondness for hanging onto them. Clothing should be useful until it wears out, but we often discard shirts, shoes and pants before then. Furniture we typically use until the stuffing pops out. Carpets stay on the floor until it is beat up and the color fades.  And so on.
 
But an atlas is a different animal. You would think it should last forever. It doesn’t. Technology displaced it.
 
Still, I’m going to use this new one. I will pore over it as I head through Oklahoma, Missouri, Illinois and Wisconsin, looking at rivers, alternative routes and state parks to explore in the future. A new world will emerge, with places to visit that I hadn’t considered. You never know where you’ll end up.

​This is so silly. It gets so hot during the summer where we currently live in north Texas, that I find myself scanning Twitter for winter images. I love looking at snow. It cools me off.
 
This is weird.  Many people call me a weird person, so I’m in character. Still, there is something to be said for looking at things that calm you down, soothe you, make you feel better, put you in a better mental space. Don’t you think?
 
If more people would take a little time out to find pictures that lift you away from something that is bothering or angering you, the world would probably be a better place. So, here’s to snow images.
 
It’s logical that winter images help during the summer. We dream of cooler environs. Conversely, if you live in Marquette, Michigan, in the Upper Peninsula (UP), as does a good buddy of mine, the yearning is for sun and warmer environs as February rolls around and over four feet of snow has fallen for the season, with more predicted. Find the sunshine and roll in it.
 
In the next few weeks, I will be moving back to the Milwaukee metro area. Having lived there for four years in the early 1980s, I know what I’m getting into when it comes to the winter. Batten down the hatches. Shovel the driveway multiple times. Warm up that car before you leave the house. No outdoor jogging for several months. Cabin fever. I’m looking forward to it all.
 
We’ve lived in Grapevine, Texas for 12 years, and it’s been an awesome community to call home. While we’ve been here, there’s an interesting quiz I often give people about where else in the country they might want to live. Most stick with Texas. But occasionally you get someone who can’t stand the heat and wants to head north. It’s fascinating to have that conversation because it seldom happens.
 
Recently I bumped into someone here in the Dallas-Fort Worth metro area who had been transferred to Buffalo, NY. I asked him how he liked it (expecting the usual “We hated it” reply), and he said he and his wife “would move back in a heartbeat.” He loved the snow, the smaller city, the ease of getting around, lower cost of living, the winter and summer outdoor activities, the change of seasons, the ability to ski.
 
Similarly, I recently interviewed for a position in Milwaukee and one of the people interviewing me had moved there from Austin, TX, another hot spot (literally and figuratively) location to live in the U.S. today. I asked him why he’d left Texas, and he responded, “The heat.”
 
He had two kids and they had a pool in Austin, but he mentioned how after 10 a.m. it was too hot to allow the kids to stay out and play during the summer. He wanted a cooler climate.
 
Given the choice, different factors motivate us to live where we do. Primarily, jobs drive where we locate. If we are gainfully employed, enjoy what we do and make decent money, most of us will stay where we are. We know the landscape, have established friendships and networks.  That’s a powerful pull.
 
Still, sometimes the snow calls. You dream of going outside in September and not busting into sweat taking the garbage down to the curb. On sweltering days, you find yourself retweeting images on Twitter of snow-capped mountains, icebergs and isolated frozen lakes. You dream of being there.
 
Sometimes you take that dreaming and follow through. We’ll see where it heads.

​All the talk the past several weeks on race issues in the U.S. is good. The rage, frustration, dialogue, confusion is good. “Huh?,”you might ask. Well when you look at us humans as a species, we are crisis driven.

We change when we are forced to. We often don’t plan for it or prepare. We get hit by events, then adapt and modify behavior. For the most part, that’s how progress occurs. It’s probably not the best way, but that seems to be our lot.

So, with an issue like race relations in the U.S. (specifically for the most part between individuals with darker skin from African origins and those who descended more from Northern European settlers), we seem particularly adept at sticking to tradition. We don’t change because we just go about our daily lives or we choose not to think about how we are acting, or that everything is okay, when it may not be for millions of people. We don’t necessarily think about how others live, and that applies in many situations.
 
Frustration grows. Anger erupts publicly. Many in the media show images of violence, destruction, protests, all of which increase revenue for TV ads, print magazines, newspapers and Internet news sources.
 
People speaking their minds and airing their grievances are a good thing. The fires of destruction are stoked though, when the repeated images projected to our handheld devices and television screens are ones of violence and mayhem. Seeing things smashed, shot up and burned scare people and leads many of us to spread our wings and scurry to the corners rather than join hands and seek smart and common solutions. We can’t have that.
 
The media provide a partial manifestation of reality for many, so their implication in the race dilemma is but one factor. But because media thrives on controversy, they seek those images and stories that cater to our base instincts. And when it comes to U.S. race relations, pitting black vs. white is an easy sell. The injustices have been long and many in our history despite much healing and reparations over the past 50-60 years or so. So it’s easy to find people willing to unleash fury even if that does not reflect the majority of a group. Run the camera. “Here’s Lester Holt reporting from Dallas.”
 
Because smart solutions are important, we should all take a step back and look at the U.S. Olympic Trials for Track and Field in Eugene, Oregon almost two weeks ago. Athletes of all colors competed. They did their best, pushed to beat their competitors.
 
Then, OMG, what did they do afterwards? They hugged each other after their efforts. Runners fell in exhaustion and tears after running events. White runners bent down to offer words of encouragement to black runners. Black runners helped white runners off the track with a hand, pulling them up and embracing. They strived individually, and then -- whether in victory or defeat -- they stood together with their fellow competitors.

For those of you who love and appreciate track and field, this is nothing new for you. But it is one more set of images we don’t often see. Here’s what I would love: Every single newspaper and news magazine in the U.S. would project pictures of those athletes joining together on their front pages. No captions allowed.
 
Just put it out there for people to see and consider. Think about our world and how much better we can make it. It is up to each of us to contribute, provide that lifting hand, the hug, the love, the embrace, the support. Coming together, we can do it.

​Is there a science to selecting quality fruit from the supermarket? Or is it an art form? Did your mother or father teach you the best way to determine if a cantaloupe was ripe or bruised? Do you ever watch someone in the fresh produce aisle to observe how they select apples, peaches, pears or plums to see if they are ripe or decaying?
 
There is a way to feel your way through the fruit selection process to better ensure you’re getting the good stuff. But there are no guarantees. Even if your past method was successful, that doesn’t guarantee the next time you’ll be able to duplicate it. I’m sure everyone has personal examples of this.
 
A number of weeks back, the family excursion for groceries returned with our 3-day supply of apples. They looked good. The skins were taut. Color seemed right. When you bit into them though, they were mush. Not quite brown inside, but close enough that you got the mealy taste of nothingness. Blah. Toss that in the composting bin.
 
Throwing fruit away like that bothers me. First, it’s money down the drain. You work hard for your income and to take 5-6 bucks and say, “Those apples were worthless,” makes you want to go back and get replacement apples from the store. But you could face the same problem of trying to figure out if that shiny skin is deceiving you, hiding a decaying interior.
 
Second, not getting what you thought you purchased (tasty fruit) is frustrating. When you expect to bite into something crisp or properly ripened and find instead that something is so green and hard that it’s tasteless or so old and withered that it’s almost rancid, you get irritated. It’s that expectation thing – you buy something with an expectation in mind and when it’s not met, dissonance sets in.
Over the years, I’ve found some ways that are helpful to determine quality fruit. Most of my experience is with pineapples, cantaloupes and apples. I avoid peaches and plums. Bananas are easy and no one should need any advice there – if they’re green, you need to wait a few days to eat them; if they have lots of brown spots, leave them on the shelf; if they are bright yellow and unblemished, those babies are ready, so grab them.
 
Apples and cantaloupes, on the other hand, are deceptive. Most of the time, you can safely figure out their ripeness level. Yet every once in awhile they screw you up and there goes your money.
 
In the spirit of helping the consumer, here are some things I’ve learned that identify good qualities to indicate you should drop the fruit into your cart. 1. Thunk it with your finger. The tapping on a cantaloupe or apple will give you a feel for the density, how many seeds are inside and whether worms are eating the interior. Put it to your ear and listen to see if it rings after you tap it. If it does, answer your smart phone.
 
2. Sniff it. If it smells ripe, you’re good. If it smells rotten, find someone else’s cart and clandestinely drop it there. That will start a nice fruit selection discussion in that family.
 
3. Feel it. Turn it over in your hands. Squeeze. It should seem just right. What that means, nobody knows. Set your own standards. Then you’ll meet them.
 
4. Look at the color. If it seems bad, put it back in the bin, or hide it behind the cereal boxes until it’s discovered two years from now.
 
I hope these excellent tips will help you next time you shop for fruit. Lower your expectations and everyone will be happy.

​The Greenbrier Golf Tournament is in peril. The pro golf tourney has been canceled for this year due to horrific flooding which killed 26 (as of the time of this writing) in and around Sulphur Springs, WVA. The gushing brown runoff water looks like North Texas in 2015.
 
There are global lessons at play, and ones that will continue to affect golf and other sports in the years ahead. In February and March of this year, I was privileged to have two stories published in Avid Golfer Magazine. The two-part series catalogued the 2015 devastation to several golf courses in the North Texas area, discussing causes, impacts and longer term decisions on how to mitigate deepening escalations in weather patterns.
 
While the effects in North Texas did not claim the lives seen by the devastation in West Virginia, the two-part series raises extremely important questions about the deepening changes in weather patterns. The golf industry is starting to get its first dose of what that could mean in the years ahead. It must adjust. Other industries will have to do the same.

This is where the issue of global changing climate patterns comes home to roost – huge forest fires in California, record setting floods in Texas and West Virginia, and in increasing velocity of tornadoes that destroys lives, homes and businesses through the central core of the United States.
 
You read or hear the point frequently: “Global climate change doesn’t kill anyone. If doesn’t affect the economy.” Both statements are hollow, and we need to wake up and act, both individually and collectively on a global scale. It is going to take behavior change, attitude change, along with personal and collective action to make a difference.
 
When you have a reasoned discussion with another person on this issue, it seems like a wall is often hit. There are skeptics and deniers to global climate change. What saddens me is people not looking at the consequences repeatedly right in front of their faces in terms of news – Sulphur Springs and the California fires being but the two most recent and visible examples.

We must choose to see. We must use the gifts we’ve been given to problem solve. I hold great hope watching our three children getting educated and prepared to step forth into the world and make a difference on issues. Their generation will help in so many ways – their innovation, their desire to make a difference and to look for solutions where others haven’t.
 
I believe many people don’t think they can contribute to change so they deny change is necessary. They don’t see the value, or the issue is too complicated. It is not. We need to get smarter, and we can do that.
 
Here are a few very simple things that anyone can do to reduce their carbon footprint.

• Install solar panels on your home
• Drive a hybrid vehicle or (egads) two
• Car pool
• Plant five trees
• Use mass transportation
• Ride your bicycle to work (I did this for 13 years)
• Add your own here

 
I also believe that many people don’t want change forced on them. “Don’t tell me what to do” is the mantra. That’s understandable. We all want freedom. But our freedom is tied to the collective health of our planet. It is the most valuable commodity in our world economy. As its health declines, so does our individual health and economic well-being.
 
I hoped and prayed the Greenbrier would get played this year. Maybe next year. The pro golf community can now lead the discussion about climate impacts, jobs lost, economic destruction in the area. It’s overdue.