Category: default || By jt3y

On Friday, the media spotlight was again focused on Jefferson County, as much of the nation wondered if the weather-forecasting groundhog known as Punxsutawney Phil would see his shadow.

Though Phil didn't see his shadow (at least according to the members of the Inner Circle of the Punxsutawney Groundhog Club), the revelry that accompanies Groundhog Day in the northwest Pennsylvania borough did cast its shadow once again over another prognosticating varmint.

According to legend, Port Vue Pete emerges from the trunk of an abandoned car on River Road before sunrise on the first Monday of February. If he doesn't bite a bystander, then the Mon-Yough area can expect an early end to winter.

Despite bitterly cold temperatures and wind chills near 20 below zero, the Almanac was on the scene this morning to capture the spectacle.

We asked Pete if he's jealous of the attention that Punxsutawney Phil receives each year.

"Jealous? Of that overgrown squirrel?" Pete said, lighting a cigarette. "Punk better never come down here. I'll mess him up."

"What is Raccoon Day, and why do you come out of your burrow on the first Monday in February?"

"It used to be Feb. 17 to celebrate the end of raccoon season," Pete said, "but that was too close to Valentine's Day and the stores didn't like carrying Raccoon Day merchandise at the same time as Valentine's Day cards. Too many guys don't pay attention when they buy cards --- they just grab the first one they see. Women were complaining that they kept getting cards like, 'Sorry to hear you have rabies.'"

He stopped to cough for a while, then continued: "Plus, we raccoons wanted a long weekend, so they moved it to the first Monday."

"When did raccoons first start predicting the weather?"

Pete paused, then asked: "When did Groundhog Day start?"

"In 1841."

"Then we started in 1840," he said.

"Doesn't that seem a little bit suspicious?"

"You wanna argue with a hungover raccoon?"

"Sorry. Why are you hungover?"

"What are you, stupid? Super Bowl was last night."

"Oh, right. I didn't realize that raccoons cared about the Super Bowl."

"We don't, but it's a good excuse to drink. You know what Dean Martin said: 'I feel sorry for people who don't drink --- when they wake up in the morning, that's the best they'll feel all day.'"

"How did you learn to forecast the weather?" we asked.

"My dad taught me," Pete said, "and his dad before that, and his dad before that, all the way back to the beginning."

"And who taught the first raccoon to forecast the weather, back in 1840?"

"Joe DeNardo."

"Why is Raccoon Day forgotten while Punxsutawney Phil has so many fans?"

"Aw, it's all PR. I blame that (expletive) movie with Bill Murray. Man, until that (expletive) nobody cared about (expletive) Groundhog Day. Now, all of a sudden, nobody wants old Pete any more. Sometimes I get so depressed I don't even feel like tipping over garbage cans or darting out in front of traffic."

"Well, maybe being written up in the Tube City Almanac will help," we said.

Pete snorted. "I'd get more viewers lying dead at the side of the road. And you don't need no Internet connection."

"Do you want to give your weather prediction?"

"Weather prediction? You (expletive) crazy? It's freezing! I wanna go back to bed."

"But I thought you got up this morning to predict the weather?"

"I got up this morning, moron, to go water the plants. You don't buy beer, you rent it. So if you don't mind, can a raccoon get a little privacy?"

"How about your prediction?"

"I predict I'm going to stick that notebook up your nose in about five seconds. Come back at noon."

"Gee, Phil always gives a cheerful little poem on Groundhog Day with his weather prediction ..."

Pete cursed. "Poem? You want a poem? Fine:

"Roses are red, I gotta gripe:
I'm glad there's an end to the Super Bowl hype.

"Snow is white, dead leaves are brown,
"We'll save lots of money if the Penguins leave town.

"My fur is iced over, my boogers they freeze,
"I wish that you soon would go away, please.

"Winter is cold, port wine is red,
"I'm taking a leak and going to bed.

"You want a prediction? Then never you fear:
"Spring comes on March twenty-one this year.

"Roses are red, Humpty Dumpty was an egg,
"Now if you don't leave, I'm biting your leg!"