Milltown Mel, beloved weather-predicting groundhog, passed away just before this year's Groundhog Day. Rest in power, Mel. We hardly knew ye, though we did get a look at your butt every year. (Patti Sapone | NJ Advance Media for NJ.com)

Good Saturday morning, friends,

Last week I wrote to you about Taylor Swift and sexism in the music industry, and while lots of you emailed to say variations of "Go, Taylor," or "They should know better than to mess with Jersey," at least one of you didn't appreciate my foray into the subject. One guy wrote:

"At a time when Covid 19 is spreading in large numbers and has killed almost a million Americans, a 'dust-up' about Taylor Swift doesn’t merit a column from an editor of a major, influential media [outlet]."

You know what, he was totally right. Maybe I shouldn't be writing about vacuous topics like global pop stars and everyday sexism. So here's a Letter about weather-predicting animals instead.

Actually it's not really about the animals -- the late Milltown Mel, our cuz from NYC Staten Island Chuck, the OG Punxutawney Phil and so on -- so much as what all these annual festivals and their accompanying folk superstitions actually mean.

On one level, it's just fun -- silly, old-timey, folksy community fun, and that's fully OK. We need fun, and these festivals harken back to a time before street-level, real-time weather forecasting, when folks relied on things like the Farmer's Almanac and studied animal behaviors for clues to the future.

But why do we care? If we know spring must eventually come, why do we need to know if it will begin right now or not for another six weeks? For me, it's about hope, and the need we humans have for signs. On Wednesday morning, as the snow began to melt, I watched a turkey vulture perch atop my neighbor's chimney, wings outstretched warming itself in the sun, and wondered if maybe it isn't only us longing for spring.

It's the same reasons we read horoscopes, which I have no shame in telling you were the first thing I turned to, back when I held a paper in my hand each day. I know astrology is a folk science and the horoscopes are entertainment, but it didn't stop me from starting my morning looking for a "good" forecast.

These days, it's Wordle. I play the little word game that's swept the Internet with my first cup of coffee, the way some folks play Sudoku or a crossword to fire up their brain. If I figure it out in six tries, surely it'll be a good day. If I get it in two or three? Look out, world.

What little daily rituals do you use to keep yourself going, or to get your mind right for the day ahead? As always, my email box awaits.

Also this week, lunch delivery, Minnie's pantsuit, if you're 50 and you know it grab a shovel, no skiing at American Dream, and the future of Southside Bethlehem:

ISN'T IT OUR TIME? It's a sure test of where you fall on the generational continuum whether you get the Fast Times At Ridgemont High joke I'm about to make, connected to this story about students getting DoorDash deliveries to school. Anyway, Mr. Hand would never allow it on his time.

MINNIE'S MINI: Want to know how ridiculous the conversations around gender norms and supposed "woke culture" are? Some FOX News types had a problem with Minnie Mouse switching up her outfit -- temporarily, in one Disney Park -- for a Stella McCartney pantsuit. Cripes, she's been wearing that skirt and heels since 1928, give a gal a break.

50 AND FABULOUS: I'll be turning 50 later this year, so this Rob Jennings piece caught my eye. With all the warnings about how snow shoveling brings on heart attacks, is it time for him to switch to a snowblower?

DREAM OF SKIING: Has anyone just come out and said yet that the whole American Dream project seems cursed? Because, damn. This time, it's the indoor ski area, Big Snow, which is closed for the forseeable future. Also, money issues.

LEHIGH RISING: Our pals at LehighValleyLive.com are in the middle of a terrific series examining the future of Southside Bethlehem. Reporter Sara Satullo spent months looking into the issues of gentrification, the influence of Bethlehem's legacy institutions, the future of Lehigh University and more. Highly recommend!

Finally, spend some time with our ongoing special project The Pay Check, which gives a first-of-its kind look at police compensation in New Jersey -- down to every local cop and every state trooper.

Maybe I'm naive but I didn't realize the extent to which many cops enhance their salaries with overtime, side gigs and balloon payments large enough to buy a retirement boat with. In some cases, police pay and those "boat checks" are crippling local government budgets -- and that's your money.

P.S.: Connecticut? How is that even a state?