Poor Wilma Whistlepig sees Satan lurking around every corner. Who can blame her for hiding out a little longer? Good thing it’s still hot fun in the summer sun down on the farm.
Groundhog Day is one of my favorite holidays, by the way. For one thing, there’s no history of war, or genocide, or human sacrifice involved. There’s just plain old Pagan longing for spring to hurry up and come. It’s also great because nothing really happens, but everybody still talks about it. Sure, you probably forget it’s even coming, but on the second day of February, everybody’s gotta know what Punxsutawney Phil and Staten Island Chuck had to say about their shadows.
And, could the wilds of North America provide us with a more perfectly comedic rodent to act the part of wintry barometer? The way they scurry across the ground, their little fat bodies looking like fuzzy waves cresting and falling, just can’t be beat. And then, once they get to chucking wood, forget about it!
Here’s a throwback: Anyone remember I am the Last VCR?
