Didn't we just do this?
Tomorrow I and countless other true-born Pennsylvanians will celebrate Groundhog Day with sacred rituals. Since there are no groundhogs in Back Bay, I will select our best rodent fascimile, ask him to look for his shadow, and then we, or I, will prognosticate on the arrival of spring. Not that it really matters, this winter being another dud in the snow and wind-chill departments.
Then the would-be rodent and I will dance to as much of the "Pennsylvania Polka" as he will allow.
He's already not talking to me.