In the movie Bowling for Columbine, Michael Moore visits Canada to test a theory he hears about how Canadians don't lock their doors.

So, he takes to the streets, tries walking into people's homes unannounced, and succeeds.

He tries getting explanations out of these individuals - some of whom have admitted to being robbed in the past, and still don't lock their doors. The gist of it?

"If I lock my doors, I'm afraid. If I don't lock them, I'm not."

This is clearly insane. Yet, part of me loves it. I loved walking to the park and leaving our garage door open. I loved not thinking about. I loved pretending that bad people didn't exist.

And then my daughter was born. And the idea of harm befalling her shakes my very core. Yet, owning a gun for protection does the same.

What's my ideal here for getting the mental protection I need without being held hostage to my fear?

A security system?

Austin, Texas: "It's like a bunch of 17-year olds set out to create the coolest city ever, gave up after 2 blocks, and spent the rest of their lives doing drugs."

I apologize for the blog silence this week. I was down in Austin at a conference for work. But I'm back with a re-cap.

Austin was one of those places I always thought I might want to live - despite never having been there. And I was disappointed. But how can you not be - when you think it might be your Eden.

And that was my main takeaway from this weekend.

I met people from Canada. From Texas. From New York. From California. And no one was really happy with where they were.

Even the girl from Fresno, who's minutes from the ocean, and minutes from skiing in the mountains.She loved it. But talked about wanting to give Denver a try. Or maybe give Spokane a try.

The lesson I learned was that we will always be discontent, because this is not our home. And that's not saying we should settle where you are - but not to think a city alone can solve the discontent in our soul.

More soon.

No thanks 'Opportunity', ask me again in 30 years.

I regret buying a house. Not only because our home is currently worth less than the remainder left on our mortgage. Not only because when we purchased, I had ignorantly assumed an 8% annual appreciation on my real estate investment in perpetuity.

But I regret buying a house because of how it realistically locks you down where you are. Whereas, renters are completely mobile. Ready to jump when opportunities present themselves. Owners aren't stuck, but it's definitely harder.

The team is supposed to show up at 7:00 AM for practice.

The leader is there at 7:00, ready to start. You show up at 7:10. The leader says, "You were supposed to be here at 7:00." You look around and reply, "No one else is here yet, either. I'm first."

If we compare ourselves to others, we can feel pretty good about ourselves. But only a sliding scale. When you instead compare yourself to holiness, grace, patience and wisdom - what do you look like?

The Earth's circumference at the equator is 24,901 miles.

In the past 7 years of owning my car, I have circled the Earth 5 times.

The majority of this time consisted largely of traveling to and from work.

Imagine the savings from personal transportation costs, pollution and office infrastructure we will be able to enjoy when companies start realizing the win-win nature of their employees working from home.

I would rather have a nice kitchen table than provide 20 people with clean water for the next 20 years.

I made that choice. It was a completely rational choice. It was my preferred desire.

Yet, intellectually, I'm aware that the choice was incorrect.

So, I don't need more education. I need to change that which I desire. That's religion. Re-prioritizing our passions based on a transformed way of seeing the world.

If you send flowers to your wife at work tomorrow, you will make her feel loved.

You will also make the rest of her female co-workers feel jealous and resentful.

As moral agents, we need to determine whether this is worth it.

What do you think?

I keep hearing it from politicians and political observers alike.

"We need a Kennedy moment. A new grandiose claim. A leader able to  dream big and pave the way for us to get there."

Charles Lindbergh's solo flight across the Atlantic was a collective wow moment for America in 1927. Apollo 11's moon landing was even bigger.

And since then we've been looking for another. A new exploration out into the wild black night. After all, we haven't had one since 1969?

But, that's because we've been going the other way. We've been going smaller. We've been ignoring the macro for the micro. Understanding cell theory. Molecular complexity. Nanotechnology. Artificial intelligence.

The stuff people are doing today is moon landing stuff.

It just doesn't offer the same visual. But, it's arguably much more important.

I'm no longer sure if I'm smart, or just lazy? Because it's a fine line, isn't it?

The intelligent person determines ways to maximize the value of their labor, so as to maximize the quantity of their leisure time.

But, the lazy person lives with this goal, too.

So, how do I determine which one I am?

When I was in high school, my friend and I were arguing about the quickest way to get to a destination.

I said, "Ok, you drive your way and I'll drive mine, and we'll see who gets there first."

He objected, "No way! You'll just drive really fast to get there first."

I said, "Ok, I'll drive your way then."

He objected, "No way! Then, you'll just drive really slow to lose."

But, I wasn't trying to win. And I didn't want him to lose. I was legitimately curious in finding out which way was fastest, so I could use that route from then on.

And that, more than anything, is what makes us different from the rest of the world. Those of us not interested in being right, but determining what "right" is.