Cleveland had snapped. Whereas before, it had been batting us around with benign fall temps, it finally lost its head and pummeled us all with frigid gusts moving a million miles an hour off the lake.
Cleveland goes a little crazy during the winter months. Not completely insano, but tilted a few degrees on its axis. Those on the periphery slide off into the abyss or crowd more toward the center and create tension that doesn’t exist during the mild half of the year.
In the winter, in days like this, the cold get colder, the hungry get hungrier, and everyone feels like the world owes them something. The world today is Cleveland and Cleveland is owed a lot. It’s not about to give anything back. It can’t give anything back. Not today anyway. It’s just too damned cold.