It's that time again. The time of year I associate with unhappy lives and the subordination of the foolish to extreme cold.
As much as I love checking in on my Blackberry, checking my denumerable Web 2.0 sites and reading big ideas on a small screen thanks to the New York Times app and the You Version Bible app...there's only so much that can be done in the rain and with muffly mittens on.
So, in this final dark moment before the canoe of winter's sad maelstrom takes me careening over the edge of Disconnected Falls, I'm standing here under a stop sign on the corner of my street, forcing myself to type this.
No more bare fingers in the warm night air. No more of the casual loping under pastel streetlamps while clicking through Google Reader.