A Rodent Named Phil
It is one of my deepest, most enduring regrets that during all my years as a Pennsylvania resident I never ventured to Punxsutawney. Not on February 2, not ever.
Tomorrow night, 100 million of us will tune in for the Big Game in Miami (or at least the commercials). But tomorrow morning, a proportionately inordinate number of eyeballs will be trained on a rodent named Phil. The forecast calls for rain and snow. Ergo, as long as the gathered hordes refrain from flash photography, spring's sweet relief might be just around the corner. Have I got that right?
Here in beautiful Tempe, I'd be content with another six weeks of winter. Heck, I'd take six months, thank you very much. But I do admit I feel for those of you for whom winter has, shall we say, worn out its welcome.