We’re very impressed with you here in Wisconsin. You’ve racked up some record numbers and enjoyed the kind of week we’ll all be talking about for years. Why, just the other morning you scored a -26 on my car’s dashboard temperature gauge and that’s without any help from the wind.
You closed schools and essential businesses, caused massive travel delays and rendered U.S. Postal workers, the heartiest of us all, homebound. Your blizzard blitzkrieg swept through and left icy drifts in its wake.
You have to agree you’ve left an impressive mark for one so young, just a handful of weeks into the year.
I’d tip my hat to you, but it’s currently anchored to my head by two layers of scarves.
I’m writing to you as a fan, a sled-rider, an ice-skater, a photography hobbyist and a person who enjoys a good, deep breath of germ-killing cold air.
It’s time to retire. Go out now, at the peak of your game and we’ll part in mutual admiration. Do you understand what I’m saying?
Tomorrow is a big day for you and I think you should consider it carefully.
Leave the groundhog alone. I’m begging you. Cast no shadow that way and you’ll seal your fate as an epic winter. We’ll always remember the way you froze our tears to our eyelashes and iced up the grocery store parking lots so thickly no one could push a cart anywhere.
You’re already a legend, so why not bow out gracefully? Stand down and let a younger season have its moment to shine. Spring might be a nice choice.
I’ve been around a while now and I know a thing or two about ego-driven winters and their drive to be the coldest, snowiest, most miserable of all time. Dude, you’re already there.
Now, take a deep bow and exit, stage left.