I’ll be headed back home to a real winter in Erie, where I hope to revive my ambition and make up for another wasted season. Until then, I’ll be trying to survive on charity and the twenty dollars left in my bank account. (A year and a half on a summer worth of golf course tips isn’t so bad.) I’ve been trying to avoid those feelings common to the city-pent, like narrowed vision, loss of self, loss of money, and the month ahead may distance me enough to let me know just how typical I’ve been in each regard. 

In short, I thought it was a pretty good time for a a beginning—or really an ending of sorts. In the most basic sense, it’s an ending because you read a blog backwards, and this first post, by this time next December, will be buried down here at the end, next to the cliff of my life before I started blogging. I don’t really have an express mission (except to avoid over-usage of em dashes and parentheses). I feel that when I start talking about the purpose of what I’m doing, I limit what the purpose could be. Still, I’m sure I’ll furnish an unsatisfactory objective  somewhere along the line. In the meantime, I’ll be posting deep, interesting reflections in stark/commanding prose, news about the cities I know, and some stories that you’ll be sure to love.