Rainy Day Spring is finally here.  At Ohio State that means that as soon as it hits 60 degrees, the campus is overrun with short shorts, flip flops, and people throwing balls and Frisbees that come dangerously close to my head.  As I walk to class wearing winter attire I make sure to glower at the tan, beautiful (from a distance) people and duck unnecessarily every time an object come hurtling in my general direction.  I like warm weather, not quite as much as the next guy, but somewhere in that region.  But I was not all that disappointed when a pleasant cloudy day quickly turned cold and rainy.  Studly dude-men who had forgone shirts scattered, and girls wearing tiny shorts with words printed on the ass… well, they looked about as stupid as they had in warm weather.  Anyways, as I stepped outside of the OSU recreation facility, the rain had died down to a tolerable drizzle such that people were closing their umbrellas.  But then, I saw a tall smiling gentleman striding towards me, singing “Baby, It’s Cold Outside.”  I pretended to neither see nor hear him, but the volume of his song was well above the acceptable level for public singing.  This was not an iPod listener who had gotten carried away and began to sing under his breath.  He was enunciating and projecting.  I could think of only two reasons a person might sing aloud in public and he didn’t appear to have a cup for money, nor was there a film crew following him.  He was too young and well-groomed to be homeless.  It just didn’t make sense.  Why would a seemingly normal man walk around as though singing in public is perfectly acceptable?  And moreover, why wasn’t he singing the obvious choice of “Singing in the Rain”?  Clearly, he was deranged.