I don't know what it is about Groundhog Day that really depresses me.
Maybe it's the sight of the
snow-packed landscape of Punxsutawney
and that fat little beaver-like creature
being assaulted by flashing cameras
and crowds of craziness.
Maybe it's just the fact
that I know no matter what Phil says,
there will still be weeks of winter ahead
and they will seem to never, ever end.
I never understood that whole concept.
You would think if that pudgy woodchuck saw his shadow,
then that would mean there was sunshine present,
which would mean warmer air,
which would bring me to the
conclusion that winter was
on it's last legs.
Plump little Phil has seen his shadow
90 percent of the time.
I'd sure like to know in what years
that 10 percent occurred.
I don't remember ever feeling
like Spring had arrived early.
It always arrives too late
and leaves too early
as far as I'm concerned.
That old groundhog knows nothing
about the cold chill of a long winter.
For most of the year, Phil lives
in a climate-controlled home
at the Punxsutawney Library.
He is taken to Gobbler's Knob and
placed in a heated burrow underneath
a simulated tree stump on stage
before being pulled out at 7:25 am
on Groundhog Day, February 2, to make his prediction.
On this day, Gobbler's Knob hosts chili cook offs,
family games, trivia contests,
ice carving exhibitions, sleigh rides,
woodchuck whittling , scavenger hunts,
and all types of food and fun.
Are these people crazy?
Celebrating what is quite possibly
going to be the announcement
of more bad weather?!
Yes,
I'm depressed.
But the Old Farmer's Almanac
has given me hope.
They say that in the past 60 years,
Punxsutawney Phil has only
been correct 28 percent of the time.
Maybe there's hope.
Gonna brush off the flip-flops
...just in case.
