It's bloody cold. And gray. And the novelty of winter wore off long ago. You're sick to death of scraping windshields, weary of wearing layers. The thought of another "wintry mix" storm makes you cringe. On top of it all, Punxsutawney Phil, that rotten little hog, had the gall to see his shadow. Yep, you're outta here. Every February the Cardinals escape to sunnier climes. You should too!