It’s almost springtime. Annually it seems like I wait a long time for spring to appear, pining for sunshine, and when it finally arrives it’s over a week later—this being a normal New York spring—and then I spend the summer complaining about the heat. Not 2005, baby. This year I’m going to revel in the sweat. I will take another step towards my goal of being a “hot weather person.” And when things get too hot, I will run to Maine.

The last editor’s letter in this space was published in December. What crap! But let me promise you it’s not for lassitude or contempt that the page has been empty—Andrew and I lost the “journaling” bug with TMN a long time ago, so it’s a lot more interesting and enjoyable to spend our daily TMN time sourcing new stories, editing, developing features—hosting a book tournament that was an exhausting blast to produce—collecting headlines, and all the other behind-the-scene details that make this magazine appear (except on Federal holidays!). Hence, the editors’ letters will have a pinch less prominence in the redesign…

The redesign? Yes, we swear it’s coming along! It’s taken much longer than we might have liked, but it does look wonderful and thankfully most of the tricky things have been fixed in code.

There is one story worth noting. I had Easter brunch with family yesterday at a hotel on Fifth Avenue. It’s a tradition wherein we all get dressed up, get stuffed with eggs benedict and smoked fish, and then walk off our fatness in the dandies’ Easter parade. (See here for past photos.) This year, I got up mid-meal to hit the bathroom. When I pushed open the men’s room door it wouldn’t open fully, so I pushed a little harder and felt it give. When I walked in and closed the door, I noticed an 80-year-old man in a suit standing behind the door, staring at me, and when I was about to apologize he puckered his lips and whispered, “Bingo!”

(And let me add, but not in a whisper, that Chapel Hill will go all the way or my name’s not Sean May.)