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I’m going to put this out there: March is the worst month. There are no holidays (at least, with apologies to Saint Patrick, none where you get a day off). It’s still winter, no matter what the calendar says. If, like me, you really don’t care about college basketball, there’s nothing going on sports-wise, either. And, thanks to the writer’s strike, all there is on TV is a glut of reality shows. March is the worst. You know what they say: March blows in like a lion and goes out like a miserable, annoying month that I hate.

President’s Update: Spring 2008

I’m going to put this out there: March is the worst month. There are no holidays (at least, with apologies to Saint Patrick, none where you get a day off). It’s still winter, no matter what the calendar says. If, like me, you really don’t care about college basketball, there’s nothing going on sports-wise, either. […]

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A couple months back, I got an assignment to do a huge road trip out West, one that involved scheduling eight cars from eight different manufacturers in cities stretching from San Antonio up to Seattle. To say that this logistic exercise gave me a heightened appreciation for the New England system would be an understatement.

President’s Update: Winter 2007

A couple months back, I got an assignment to do a huge road trip out West, one that involved scheduling eight cars from eight different manufacturers in cities stretching from San Antonio up to Seattle. To say that this logistic exercise gave me a heightened appreciation for the New England system would be an understatement.

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