Punxsutawney Phil is ready for his yearly weather report

With Groundhog Day just around corner, it’s that time of year again for American citizens to rally around their televisions to see Punxsutawney Phil make his yearly weather prediction. I, for one, am grateful that for one day out of the year the weather gods decide to imbue their mystical powers onto a cute little animal so that we can receive our weather reports from a more interesting and trustworthy source: a groundhog.

Groundhogs are obviously the superior choice for weather predictions. Traditionally, Groundhog Day stems from the Christian Candlemas Day, when blessed candles were distributed for winter. The Germans expanded this tradition by relying on hedgehogs to find their shadows for weather predictions. Lucky for us, the Germans who immigrated here and passed on the tradition to us in Pa. decided to go with the great groundhog instead, considering they were more plentiful to the region.  Thus, the discovery of groundhogs’ ability to make weather predictions solely about the length of winter and only on Feb. 2 came about.

Let’s also cut Phil some slack for the fact that he’s accurate about 39 percent of the time.  He is sometimes overzealous, but also self-conscious and fairly insecure.

As a little groundhog, the day can surely be overwhelming—the pressure is on when it comes to weather predictions. So, to stay on the safe side, Phil usually harnesses his powers to predict a longer winter. About 87 percent of the time, Phil’s prediction tells us to bundle up for a few more weeks of winter!  It seems like a win-win scenario, though. Either he’s right, which deserves credit in and of itself, or he’s wrong, and we all receive a blissfully early spring season. This groundhog has it all figured out.

Plus, Punxsutawney Phil may even be more scientifically accurate than the rest of the world. According to the Punxsutawney Groundhog Club, Phil drinks a “groundhog punch” every year, which adds seven more years to his lifespan.

And good for Phil for managing to hide this secret recipe from the rest of the animal kingdom. Not only does he ensure its secret, he also manages to convince the humans to administer it to him every year without asking for the ingredients.

Given all this, it makes sense that Phil manages to outshine only the second most famous groundhog in Pa., Gus, the promotional mascot for the Pennsylvania lottery. I would put more trust in Phil’s weather predictions than I would in Gus’ ability to rig the lottery.

I, for one, will be glued to my television screen on Feb. 2 in anxious anticipation of Phil’s appearance. Keep your eye out for any other groundhogs that may seem bitter today, because they were not handed the powers our trusted Punxsutawney musters.