Mixed messages

Punxsutawney Phil, the groundhog who lives at Gobblers Knob in Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania, saw his shadow when he left his burrow this morning, which means Pennsylvania will have six more weeks of winter and the folk there will not enjoy an early spring.

On the other hand, General Beauregard Lee, the groundhog who lives at The Yellow River Game Ranch in Lilburn, Georgia, just outside of Atlanta, did not see his shadow when he left his burrow this morning, which means that Georgia will not have six more weeks of winter and the folk here will enjoy an early spring.

There is just one thing wrong with this annual prognosticative nonsense, meteorologically speaking.

It is much too late in Georgia to have an early spring.

I remember a year when the forsythia bushes and jonquils burst forth in golden splendor (Brit., splendour) in early January. If you would kindly check your calendar before proceeeding, you will discover that it is now February.

Talk about locking the barn door after the horse is gone.

Chuck from where?

Most of us know about Punxsutawney Phil, the nation's official groundhog, the annual harbinger of spring or announcer of six more weeks of winter every Groundhog Day. (Aside: I have met three people from Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania. Back in the sixties, Dave and Connie M. attended the same church we did in Bellevue, Nebraska, and during the eighties and part of the nineties the guy in the cubicle next to mine in the big, bad, corporate world was Tom S., who also hailed from Punxsutawney.)

When we moved to the Atlanta area in 1975, we learned of General Beauregard Lee, Georgia's version of Punxsutawney Phil. General Lee lives at Stone Mountain and is trotted out every February 2nd, regular as clockwork, to predict seasonal change in the deep South. Because, I guess, you just can't put stock in the meteorological prognostications of Yankee groundhogs. This morning, thanks to an offhand comment on the Regis and Kelly television program, I became aware of a third weather-forecasting groundhog, Chuck of Staten Island. What I would like to know is this: how many more four-footed weather forecasters are lurking out there in various parts of this great country of ours? If you know of any others, please send me their names and locations! I eagerly await your responses.