Climate Change

He knocked politely at the door, which read, "Punxsutawney Meteorological Commission."

"Come on in, Phil, the Commissioner said, inviting him in.

"Usually, we wouldn't meet for another year, Mr. Verdant."

"I know that, Phil, but this year's different."

"How so? I was there on Gobbler's Knob, just like every year."

"Siddown, Phil."

Phil tentatively pulled out the desk chair facing Mr. Verdant. "Verdant — French?"

"No, Phil, not French. It's Vernal. Like the equinox coming..."

"Coming early. Remember, I saw my — "

"Yea, I know. Spring's coming early."

"I know! Ain't that great?"

"It would be," Verdant barked, "if it happens."

"Hey!" complained Phil.

"Hey--nothin'!"

"OK.," Phil said in a very serious tone his kind were not inclined to invoke. "What's this all about?"

"Well, Phil, we've been doing this since, what? 1887?

"That's right. Well, not me. My great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandfather."

"You missed a couple of greats, there."

"Sorry."

"Phil, as Commissioner in Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania, I have to step in--make things right."

"Make what things right, sir?"

"First of all, you! Make you right."

"Excuse me?"

"Well, Phil, that's just it. I can't excuse you. You've been wrong since--y'know--1887."

"Well, not me. All my great-great--"

"Stop being so squirrely. The lowdown is your whole family's gotten it right only 39% of the time since...um..."

"1877."

"Yes. And you yourself haven't done any better." He laughed to himself. "Why, we have someone who's gotten it right 50% of the time; that's 11% better than you."

"Who?"

"Tommy."

"Tommy?"

"Yea, Tommy. Tommy Jefferson. He's on a nickel we can flip and get a better prediction than what youse guys've been coming up with."

They both sat in silence, Phil's lips trembling to stifle an outburst of wailing, and the Commissioner spinning a nickle he had just retrieved from his pants pocket. They both watched it spin.

"How's it gonna land, Phil? When it stops. Call it, will ya?"

"I don't get it."

"I said call it!"

"Heads," Phil said.

It stopped and landed with "heads" up.

"You were right, Phil. I guess I owe you an apology. Till next year?"

"Sure," Phil said. "See you next year."

"But, Phil," the Commissioner said, "just remember you're on Probation."