GIRARDEAU GEORGE SAYS: GET USED TO WINTER

Waking up to freezing temperatures, Cape Girardeans might have guessed what Girardeau George, the region's own weather-forecasting groundhog, would have to say before he appeared at his familiar spot along Route W Friday.

With temperatures below freezing, and the ground crunchy under foot, few people took the time to look for the furry little woodchuck, scampering across the field that surrounds his home.

George didn't scamper long, just enough to see his shadow and head back for his burrow.

What this means, according to folklore, is that winter will stick around for six more weeks, much to the chagrin of Southeast Missourians who have already experienced the second coldest winter in the state's history.

In an exclusive interview with the Southeast Missourian, George made his annual lament that the hype of his better known ancestors -- Punxsutawney (Pa.) Phil; Gen. Beauregard Lee of Yellow River Game Ranch in Lilburn, Ga., or Wiarton Willie, an albino groundhog from Wiarton, Canada -- noticeably detracts from his own media coverage.

Phil, who's message was interpreted for the large audience which attends the annual predawn ceremony at Punxsutawney, Pa., brought politics into his brief message.

"I'm glad I don't count the chad," he said. "I rely on the sun. Now I see my shadow, gotta go."

George, speaking in his teeth-chattering groundhogese, said he had no interest in who counted chad, but that he "could have done it better."

The Punxsutawney legend was born in 1882. Each year when Phil delivers his verdict, it is recorded and reported on the floor of the U.S. House of Representatives and noted in the Congressional Record.

In comparison, George's predication goes largely unnoticed. But the woodchuck said he has high hopes his forecast may be placed before the Missouri Legislature some day.

Trying to show that being sidelined by fame wasn't all bad, this writer pointed out that with his prediction of more cold and winter George should be happy he wasn't surrounded by a crowd.

It could have been ugly since most of them have received their December/January heating bills.

In fact, someone had submitted a groundhog recipe to the Missourian just the day before. George scowled!

Although George didn't draw a crowd, he made his appearance anyway.

This year, as in previous years, George posed the same questions as he waddled back to his burrow.

"Who thought up all this groundhog business anyhow? Don't you people have anything better to do than to go around pestering furry little forest creatures?"

The Groundhog Day tradition is rooted in a German legend that if an animal casts a shadow on Feb. 2 -- the Christian holiday of Candlemas -- bad weather is coming.

Groundhogs aren't the only weather prognosticators. In years past a St. Louis pot-bellied pig named Bacon filled in for a groundhog which died at the zoo. And, there are all those little woolly worms that make their winter predictions every year.

But the groundhog is the star with Feb. 2 selected as the perfect day for predictions because it falls halfway between the winter solstice and the spring equinox.