Eight days ago, we departed from the usual complaints about Soldier Field, Springfield shenanigans and spendthrift politicians, and put the full weight of the newspaper behind a blunt demand that Chicago get what it deserves: A real winter.
Now we seem to have one.
On the way into work Thursday, the roads treacherous with ice, trains jammed with snowbirds, schools closed, puddles of slush ankle-high in the streets, buses and cars splattering pedestrians left and right, parking spaces being carved out of snow and defended at the risk of physical harm, forecasters predicting icy rain, homeowners shoveling sidewalks and hoping to avoid heart attacks, we had only one thought:
Oops.
Next time, we’ll try to restrain our irrational exuberance for winter.
Sorry. Really.
