Thoughts on Groundhog Day

I became disenchanted with the whole idea of Groundhog Day when I lived in New York. In New York, groundhogs are known as woodchucks, and we shoot them come summertime, to keep them from descimating our gardens. I don't know "how much wood can a woodchuck chuck..." but I do know they can eat every growing plant you have, in the time it takes to go to the beach with the kids for an hour.

So, start with the idea of using one of these eating machines as a weather predictor. Take the usually solitary, cranky beast out of its normal hibernating routine in early February, haul it out into the light of day in front of the glare of TV lights and the assembled residents of Punxsutawney, PA, and determine whether or not it "sees" its shadow. I don't know about this. Logic requires us to conclude that if the sun is out, there will be a shadow. If it's cloudy or overcast, no shadow. Do we really need the groundhog at all for this observation? All a normal person has to do is look up at the sky.

Then, there's the whole thing about 6 more weeks of Winter. Look at the freaking calendar, people! Winter is defined as the period of time between the Winter Solstice and the Vernal Equinox. Yep, you figured it out: February 2nd is roughly six weeks before the advent of Spring, no matter what the groundhog sees.

Sure enough, every year they'd haul out Phil (or whomever they designated as this year's "Phil") and declare that yes, we'll have six more weeks of Winter. Well, duh! Those clever Pennsyvanians found a way to make idiots of everyone who can't follow a simple calendar, whip up some tourism in the doldrums of late Winter, and get themselves in the news, year after tedious year.

Bill says I'm being too harsh, that the custom is harmless and charming. I say that anyone who thinks a groundhog is remotely charming or harmless doesn't know wildlife at all. I say shoot them all, before they have a chance to eat your peas and beans.