In the style of the Yak

I know it's coming. Winter. The ice and snow are waiting for me, like a voracious tiger at the edge of a village. Waiting. With teeth. At the edge of a village. Teeth. Snow. Ice. Cold.

For the beauty it brings - and there is beauty in winter, in the snow, in the ice, in the blustering cold that makes us bundle into one another - it is too bad that winter is ugly and desolate. Beauty contrasted with ugly. Pleasure contrasted with pain.

How many things in our life contain both pleasure and pain? One in ten people are into S&M. One in ten. That's the same amount of people who are gay, or who like Sarah Palin. One in ten people get pleasure from being tied up, from being told what to do, from being beaten and hurt.

Personally, I don't like being hurt. But the idea - just the slight threat of being hurt - is a bit attractive. It's like the airport in Duluth. That runway is really short - it's 10,009 feet when it needs to be 10,015 feet for a T-Z 747 - and when you take off, you get a little scared. I mean, it's close. That's what the hint of being hurt is like. I always get a little excited when I'm flying out of Duluth. I let out a stream of vowels and consonants.

Vowels and consonants. You probably never think about them. People from Cleveland, their A's sound funny. They're rough. Sharp. Like S&M. Rough. I think people from Cleveland must have invented S&M. They like things rough. Their vowels. The lake. Trying to drive downtown right before an Indians game. Getting a job. Rough. Cleveland is rough.

So the next time you want to try S&M, remember that you're really taking part in celebrating Cleveland. And stay warm this winter, because it will be cold. Bleak. Bleak. Cold. Winter. Because it's cold. And bleak. And winter. And cold. Stupid cold winter.