Change is in the air

Gradually, changes occur in American society. I'm old enough to be an eyewitness to some of them.

I'm not talking about technology upgrades that make your lap-top faster or your hand-held computer device zippier. Ask the younger generations (yes, there's more than one younger generation now), and they may tell you that these are real life-changers. But I'm referring to changes on a deeper level, such as the civil rights movement.

I was pretty young in the early '60s, but I do recall the race riots in our cities, final convulsions in a body politic that was adapting to a new lifestyle of racial equality. The election of a black president puts an exclamation mark on the country's transition out of institutionalized bigotry.

Lesser but still dramatic cultural changes have followed. I still recall going home from a day at the office reeking of ruined air because a nearby co-worker chain-smoked. Attending a sporting event meant breathing in all manner of wispy aromas, from cigarettes, pipes, even cigars. Gradually, society realized the right of citizens to be free of second-hand smoke.

Another transition seems to be in full swing, this one not involving rights as much as perceived responsibilities. The concept of living our lives in a way that preserves natural resources is being transfused into our mainstream. Going green used to seem radical, the stuff of tree-huggers. Now, for many Americans, it's becoming the natural thing to do, from recycling to eschewing disposable cups.

More than 1,000 people checked out the vendors at The Triplicate's recent "It's a Green Day" expo at the fairgrounds, learning about myriad ways of saving money by saving energy. Change was in the air, the kind that eventually reaches a critical mass and redefines our concept of being a good citizen.

I'll admit I haven't been the quickest to embrace environmentalism. I still can't bring myself to install energy-saving lightbulbs that brighten slowly. Sorry, but when I walk into a dark room I usually want light now, I'm not looking to make an appointment. Nevertheless, it's heartening to think that taking better care of the planet is gradually being hard-wired into the circuitry of the typical American.

Cheeseburger in paradise

Maybe someday we'll evolve into a vegetarian society as well, but I'll skip that train. When the discussion among local residents turns to what they miss the most because of living in a remote area, they tend to mention shopping malls, fancy restaurants and "culture." I think longingly of In-N-Out Burger.

Wherever you are, I can tell you where the nearest one is with a quick consultation of my In-N-Out Burger pocket guide. The northernmost is in Redding, but alas, the bulk of this finest of fast-food empires lies farther south and east, having never expanded beyond population centers in California, Nevada and Arizona.

The good news is, I don't have to drive hundreds of miles to get a tasty cheeseburger; some local eateries can provide that. The better news is, there's a place 26 miles up the road that may provide the finest cheeseburger experience in America.

This is not exactly a secret, because participants in the newspaper's Reader's Choice Awards named Fely's Cafe the region's best burger joint as recently as 2007 (this year proprietor Fely Johnson was voted best "food server"). But the little blue shack in Brookings Harbor, actually a combination restaurant and laundromat, isn't on the beaten path. Instead, it's at the ocean's edge, meaning you can catch the waves from the restaurant or your car as you attack a burger so scrumptious and voluminous that a knife and fork are recommended.

Laura and I did just that while watching surfers in Sunday's autumn sunshine. Well, she dabbled at the plate of fries while I did the heavy lifting.

Find a place that surpasses In-N-Out Burger, and you know you're home.