I’m a midwestern guy and — like most of us — I’m committed to it. It takes commitment, many days (even months) of the year. But then there are those perfect moments of brilliant autumn, deep winter, shining spring and high summer that make all that commitment worth it. The passage of a year is tactile. And sweaters and big coats and dark liquors and warm fires all have a purpose beyond decoration. But sitting here with my wife, at a small table in a hedge-screened courtyard of our hotel, I understand the attraction of a place where it’s 70 degrees with a light breeze, forever.

So I’ve decided to start this blog at 31,000 feet, somewhere over Kansas. According to the seat-back screen, our plane is currently passing over the city of Lebanon, KS. Were I to lean over my wife, slide up the window shade and look down, within view would probably be the geographical center of the contiguous United States. I hear there’s a monument. It’s almost certainly irrelevant, but I am starting this effort – at least in one sense – centered. In every other way, however, I’m probably a little off target. I am, for example, on my way to southern California for a three-day self-help conference. “Self Help” is probably…