Every February 2nd, a tradition is celebrated Stateside as well as in Canada, with the main focus of this celebration being directed towards the notion of a rodent predicting the weather. Now, I cannot even begin to tell you how many things I take issue with in that previous sentence.Oh wait, yes I can, in fact I can tell you EXACTLY how many things I take issue with...ONE! I take issue with a grand total of one things from that sentence. Now I'm all for traditions, and I absolutely adore the idea of making up bullshit reasons to celebrate a day and enjoy a bit of a piss up, but there's just something about the idea of putting a glorified rat on a pedestal, even if only for a day, that just disturbs me slightly. Whenever I hear the words "groundhog day" I shudder at the thought of just how farcical the invention of such a bogus holiday probably was.
Apparently it was a superstitous German theory to begin with, whereby they believed that the groundhog (because apparently there was only one, in all of Germany) would emerge from his burrow on February 2nd, and should the weather be sunny, he'd make a hasty retreat back into his burrow because apparently the little fucker was afraid of his own shadow. The only way to lull the groundhog out of his dwelling for an extended period was to hope for cloud cover because that way he wouldn't see his own shadow, and as such would not be likely to retreat. The superstition was that the groundhog would predict the weather to the extent that if it was sunny on the morning of February 2nd, he would retreat for 6 weeks as winter was set to continue. However, if there was cloud cover, he would emerge and happily saunter about the surrounding area, thus confirming that winter was over and there would be an early spring. Now, there are a number of things about that supersition that all lead me to the response "what a croc" which I will address in greater detail in the next paragraph.
As Groundhog Day is effectively a holiday, although I pray it is not deemed important enough for schools and banks to be closed etc., the groundhog is held in very high esteem by the people who believe in his bullshit. And sure how could he not be? Handsome little bastard, the groundhog:-short, fat, awkward , buck tooth - all the trimmings that make him a hit, not just with the lady groundhogs, but also with the thousands upon thousands of people who choose to skip a days pay so they can go and watch the little bollocks stick his head out of a hutch. But I digress, lets not launch a scathing personal attack on the groundhog here. It's more of a critique of the notion of groundhog day that I'm trying to put forward. For example, I'd just like to point out a few "flaws" in this rather dated theory. For example, the idea is that if the groundhog see's that it's cloudy out...winter is over...whereas if he see's the sun...there's to be an extended winter of sorts. Surely they misinterpreted somewhere along the way? I mean, it seems like a fundamentally easything to get right if you just use your head...Surely if the sun is out, that would signify spring, rather than the other way around?
Apparently the biggest groundhog day celebration on Earth is held in Punxsutawney (a place that I genuinely presumed was fictional until I researched this topic a little further) where upwards of 40,000 people have been known to turn out annually to celebrate the emergence of Punxsutawney "Fuckface" Phil since 1887.
Now, I'm no mathematician, but there seems to be a fairly blatant flaw in that. If Punxsutawney Phil has been predicting the weather since 1887, that would make him 124 years old and a true survivor story to say the least, considering the average lifespan of a groundhog is estimated at between 10 and 14 years. Apparently many of his most devout followers genuinely believe that he is fed some mysterious "groundhog punch" during the summer seasons which lengthens his existence, however the more likely, albeit less interesting scenario is that Punsutawney Phil most likely Punxsutawney croaked several times over by now... with a new "Phil" being promoted through the ranks to fill his Punxsutawney shoes every so Punxsutawney often.
Going back to the notion of Phil emerging from his crypt to check out the weather situation, if he goes back into the hut, how do you know he's running from his shadow, or that he's retreating because of the sun? Who are you to say that he's not just forgotten something in the hut and when he scampers back in for his Punxsutawney wallet, some fucker comes over and shouts "Show's over folks...long winter ahead" and locks the poor bastard back in the hutch. It's disgraceful. If it's conceivable that this little rodent can predict the weather...isn't it also conceivable that he's capable of forgetting his wallet or keys...or maybe Punxsutawney Phil has a Punxsutawney family, and his morning routine is to grab a bit of brekkie at the table with the wife and sprogs, before the wife asks him to check the weather forecast...Now, presumably they don't have cable down in the burrow, so maybe he's forced to go to the surface and check it out first hand...maybe that's his DAILY tradition, and everyone is so wrapped up in their own shit that nobody pays attention the other 364 days of the year...and maybe then, with that being the case, when he turns on his heel to go back inside to tell Punxsutawney Pam that the weather's great...you superstitous so and so's convince yourselves that he's telling you to go home and throw another log on the fire.
I also find it laughable that we're supposed to buy into this idea of a little groundhog who is apparently afraid of his own shadow, but yet has no problem with being surrounded and scrutinised by 40,000 strangers beating drums and shouting. Surely if your nerves are as weak as Punxsutawney Phil's appear to be, you'd be in no humour for the whooping and screaming of 40,000 avid groundhog fans stomping and blaring music. It all sounds like a farce to me...but then again, I suppose we do celebrate St.Patrick's day big style, so perhaps we should not be so quick to judge others for their bizarre yet (in their own way) wonderful traditions.
Here's to an early spring Punxsutawney Phil, I'll drink to that!
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