Those Punks in Punxsutawney Got Nothing On Us

Today is Groundhog Day here in America, the day when as you know, an overweight rodent determines how many weeks of winter remain by either looking left or right as he comes out of a hole. It's all very scientific.

You may not know that here at the Kansas City Irish Fest we have a similar tradition on February 2nd. On that date Irish Fest president Rory O'Connor emerges from The Gaf on Wornall and if he sees his wife, he goes home and we have six more weeks of winter. Or he does, anyway.

I kid of course, because it is February and we're deeply stuck in that mid-winter semi-insanity that grips the Midwest about now. The long range forecast is an endless string of 20s and 30s with cloudy skies and Irish Fest can seem very far away indeed*. So here's what we're going to do. On Friday, we're going to make a big announcement here. An announcement about Irish Fest that's so exciting it will be just the push we need to stumble through the next six weeks of winter. We'll think of it as our own little groundhog, emerging from his groundhog hole only it's straight up noon and there's no shadow to see and winter instantly ends with daffodils shooting out of the ground like they were fired from a gun and temperatures rising so fast that thermometers explode. So get ready.

Six more weeks. Ugh.

*213 days to be exact.