All is well on the Midwestern front on this cold, depressing winter day. The bird has up and headed to the land of Elvis and NASCAR, leaving us lowely Buckeyes to fend for ourselves to create the music the fills the morning sky.

It’s been a long time since I’ve spoken with you. I wish I could say it was due to some sort of marvelous adventure that has taken me to far away lands, far far away from the congestion of these city highways and away from all sorts of communication, in search of some wonderful piece of treasure. However, to tell you such a tale would surely be one of the more elaborate hoaxes I’ve ever contrived. No, in fact, I have been here all along, swaying in my easy chair to the sweet sounds of Ella Fitzgerald and wishing for brighter days.

I always thought that Winter was depressing. That lonely time of year, when the skies are as grey as my grandfather’s sport coat. The trees are bare. Everything is dirty and ugly with the thin grimey coating of road salt that seems to overtake us all. The same road salt that is overused on the very first light coating of snow in early November. The very same road salt that the city is out of by the time our last snow lands sometime in late March or early April, just before the tulips arrive late to the party.

Yes, it is winter. That same winter that all of us in my little town were looking around at each other saying “Ya know, I think I’m ready for winter…” as we raked our leaves and cleaned our gutters. How can anyone truly be ready for winter? That’s as reasonable of a saying as suggesting that one is ready for a stomach flu or for some sort of loss of limb.

No, winter is a cruel, terrible mistress. One who sweeps in with dazzling beauty, white and pure but in fact leaves behind an ugly brown, dirty mess that we must work to clean.

In my time away from you, I’ve experienced many joys. I’ve experiences many triumphs. I’ve also experienced many regrets and heartaches. Some that have left many people hurt, some that have brought few people joy. I don’t know if I will ever share with you the details of such situations, but I’m glad to know that when I need you, old friend, you’re here to listen.

Until we meet again. Cheers.