Groundhog Day has come and gone with the expected outcome as every year, where the little, round, ratlike creature beholds his shadow for yet another season.
How disappointed we all are every year vainly believing that this furry Phil could conceivably hold the key to unlocking the door separating winter and spring.
Loud, audible sighs can be heard all across the Midwest as the snow again begins to fall softly like tiny bits of cotton and, because of a bizarre tradition, we brace ourselves on Feb. 2 for another six weeks of cold and slush and shovels and mittens. It’s going to be a long winter.
We could move south where the perpetual heat and humidity defy all hair products, but that would just be trading one form of suffering for another.
So we will continue to endure this change of seasons where the “good” ones seem too short and the “bad” ones too long.
