Dear “Winter,” It’s not you, it’s me.

I need to move on. Yes, we’ve had our moments: playing in the snow, baking pies on a chilly afternoon, spending the holidays together (although I never really thought of Saint Patrick’s Day as a “winter” holiday) … but NONETHELESS, you’ve been there. Morning, noon AND NIGHT.

Whether it be a frozen train-station bench on Long Island, a shivering walk through Manhattan or a snow-laden trudge in Boston … Yes, we are all suggesting that you visit somewhere else. The polar bears in the Arctic say they miss you TERRIBLEY.

And “Spring” really wants to visit us, here in the Man Cave. Really. It’s Spring’s turn. This is not “good-bye,” it is merely “until we meet again!”

There will come a time when the city is sweltering … when we long to pull on a snuggly new sweater, play in the snow and make pot roast, and we will truly want to see you again. I promise.

But for now? Seriously. Overstayed your visit. Sorry to get New-York on-your-A** but I’m changing the locks on the doors.

This has been an actual conversation in the Man Cave. What’s the Man Cave? Read this.

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