I'm not gone, it just seems that way.

Having been conspicuous in my absence of late, I thought it important to assure those of you kind enough to still occasionally stop by that, despite appearances, none of the following things have contributed to my recent run of silence:

1. An unfortunate accident involving a box of Kleenex, a fossilized butterfly, and a cement mixer
2. The ill-advised dumping of 10,000 metric tons of baking soda into Lake Michigan
3. The ire of the Russian mob
4. Pixies
5. Simple Chronic Halitosis
6. That thing, you know, where you press on the little pit behind your jaw and below your ear, and you hit that nerve and you, like, can hardly see for about five minutes afterward 'cause it hurts so much
7. Tort reform
8. The films of John Agar
9. A diet composed entirely of beer, barbecue sauce, and 'Lil Smokies
10. Cats

That's not to say there haven't been reasons, but they are of the deathly mundane variety, most having to do with greater than usual time-pressures from work and family life, and a corresponding lack of motivation to overcome them, primarily due to the lackluster state of my chosen subject.

In other words, I've been a busy fella, and since the Cubs as writing material have been, to be diplomatic, an uninspiring group, the thing that's fallen to the wayside when push came to shove has been this little ditty. Sometimes life gets in the way of endeavors such as this one, and that's been the nature of things here in recent days.

That said, I think I'm entering a period of more frequent contribution, even if the principal object of discussion remains a fetid pile of dung. Hopefully, that's good news (the more frequent contributions, not the dung), because even with things as they are, I've missed the work, and even more, the occasional interaction it inspires.

Thanks to those of you who haven't given up on me. I hope to justify that loyalty in the days to come.