I write to you on your behalf...

You see, fall is my favorite season. Well, maybe not fall as I've come to know it, but rather the fall I knew as a child. Growing up in the mountains of California, I saw fall on brilliant, full display. Leaves changing color gradually before falling effortlessly to the ground. Mornings were met with a mist and a chill in the air was met with the smell of fresh apple pies. Boots were acceptable to wear for many months and scarves didn't leave you with a sweat ring around your collar.

I want that for you, Louisiana.

Imagine what joy we all could have in our hearts if our pumpkin spice lattes didn't have to be iced. If our pumpkin patch excursions didn't have to be conducted in shorts and tank tops. What if Halloween makeup didn't run down the faces of our children?

Oh, I see what you're trying to do this week. I've felt the chill on my cheeks. It's nothing more than a tease. I know you'll find a way to be back in the 80's again and we'll all be right back where we started.

You can do better.

I'm not telling you to just be like everyone else. I'm telling you that there is room for you at this fall season table. Stop looking over at other states with magical fall seasons and wishing you were a part of that world.

Those other states are calling out to you, "Come sit with us... On Wednesdays we wear flannel."

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