Today is the day the music died, 40 years ago.

Speaking of dying, those of us who live in Ontario have been beaten about the head and shoulders with the news story of Wiarton Willie's demise. He is our variation of Punxatawney Phil, that rodential prognosticator of winter's eventual demise. Seems he went into hibernation for the winter and ended up making it a permanent one. There was video on the television news of a little coffin, with the body of the albino groundhog lying in state. Those responsible for interpreting his forecasts broke the news of his passing on Groundhog Day. Apparently this occurred on SuperBowl Sunday. However, the conspiracy theorists are already afoot with tales of great intrigue. (Well, as full of intrigue as tales can be about a dead groundhog. That's top-notch 90s journalism for you!)

Rumours abound that Willie died well before this past Sunday. When they went to check on him, he was rather decomposed and not suitable for public viewing. Apparently, those on high went to a local taxidermist and purchased a stuffed groundhog. They then bleached the critter's fur white to look like Willie's albino complexion. This imposter, the theorists claim, is the little fellow lying peacefully in the coffin, not the real Willie. An anxious public awaits the truth.

I wonder what this will mean regarding the end of winter. Did the secret die with Willie? Are we doomed to eternal snowfall? I'm breaking out my Ouija board to find out. Anyone speak groundhog?

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