It's not that The Ford's not occasionally homesick for the Great Northwest. (Or, as he hates to call it, The 206/360/503/509/253...)

It's just that it's usually a dull ache, instead of the sharp pang of homeward pull The Ford felt after reading this.

Then again, it has probably been 15 months since The Ford tasted the wares of Mr. Weinhard, a Private Reserve drought long enough to make any man go insane.