As I write this column I look out upon a cold and gray world void of the colors of life and filled with the fog of futility as I search for some hint of the sun. I'm writing this column from Nashville, Tennessee where I recently relocated for an extended job assignment. My trip here was supposed to have taken me on a drive through Atlanta but I had to divert out through the Florida panhandle and up through Alabama because of the severe ice storms and freezing rain in Atlanta. Some of you would have called that weekend "Superbowl Weekend."

Having arrived superbowl Sunday in Nashville, I've spent the better part of two weeks searching for the sun. In Florida we always see the sun. We rarely go without seeing the sun, even when it rains part of the day. But, up here, they lose the sun in late fall and don't find it again until early spring. I wonder why I am reminded of my hometown area in the Mid-Hudson Valley of New York State?

However, it isn't just the sun which is different about Nashville, especially for one who had never been here before. The radio stations here are outstanding. In fact, there are no bad stations. I have all but given up on FM radio in South Florida. Here I get jazz, blues, popular, and, of course, county. Much of it is live also, right from the studio.

Of course, it is difficult to understand what the announcer is saying because they talk so funny up here. The most frequently asked question I get is "What part of New York are you from?" The next most frequently asked question is "You're not from here, are you?"

However, the people here are the most friendly I have encountered anywhere in my wide variety of travels. They pleasantly offer advice, directions, and suggestions about anything I ask, often adding their own favorites to the routes, restaurants, and retail stores about which I may have inquired. I watch in disbelief as people actually use their turn signal at an intersection or let me in front of them as I make necessary lane changes on I-65. People actually hold the door open for the next person and let you on the elevator without a shove.

As for me personally, I have learned new skills rekindled some old skills. For openers, I have learned to forge on and off the interstates with all the finesse of a hockey player doing a body check on an approaching opponent. When you have about 200 yards to move four lanes to the left where you turn off one interstate to enter another, cowardice and hesitancy give way to "damn the torpedoes." Fortunately, there are as many people who need to move to the right as there are to the left so it evens out pretty quickly. Another skill I've learned is how to get into an elevator when (a) it is already packed full, (b) the door has just about closed, or (c) I am 30 yards from the elevator when the door begins to close.

I am most proud, however, of how well I have learned to navigate the up and down spiral ramps of multi-floor parking garages. I've gone from never having been in one in my life to having achieved NASCAR-like speed.

A skill which I have rekindled is the fine art of scrapping ice off the car windshields in the morning with my work badge. When I worked in Poughkeepsie, NY it was considered normal to go through about 4-6 badges a winter as the scrapping gradually ruined the badge. I am working on my first badge now and happy to report that so far it is holding up very well.

Finally, I have relearned what a joy it is to look at the horizon and see open fields, rolling hills and mountains, trees taller than the roof of my house in Delray Beach, and such non-human critters as horses, cattle, and sheep. In fact, what a joy it is to see anything other than cement. I'm not sure Nashville is anything like Houston, the site of my last assignment. But it is very exciting to be able to experience the differences between these other areas and that sea of cement which South Florida has become.