Because I don't usually bother to post on weekends outside of November, I missed saying my piece about Groundhog Day. It was last Saturday. I don't know anyone who cares about Groundhog Day—we all know the varmint doesn't really predict the coming of spring. If Punxsutawney Phil sees his shadow, then we will have another six weeks of winter, but February 2 is conveniently about six weeks before the first day of spring regardless. I guess we just like to hang on to traditions.
We drag around this poor groundhog named Phil on February 2 because the day is halfway between Winter Solstice and the Spring Equinox, a day known as Imbolc. And in Celtic history, it was customary to follow a snake or badger to see if it came out of hiding and saw its shadow. Candlemas, a Christian feast day, falls on the same day, so some people think the present Groundhog Day is a remnant of that—"If Candlemas be bright and clear, there'll be two winters in the year."—although I don't see the connection between predicting the weather and purifying the Virgin.
I have grown up seeing pictures of big, fat Punxsutawney Phil, and Bill Murray's Groundhog Day is one of my favorite comedies, but it wasn't until just this past Saturday that I learned about Buckeye Chuck. Not to be outdone by Pennsylvania, Ohio has its own weather predictor rodent. Wisconsin has Jimmy the Groundhog, Florida has Pardon Me Pete, North Carolina has Sir Walter Wally, and Georgia has General Beauregard Lee. The General has an honorary doctorate from Georgia State University.
And there are others. There are pet groundhogs who sometimes see their shadows all over Canada, and the Caribbean has West Indies Wilbur, a big pig who has predicted six more weeks of winter this year.
So, another Groundhog Day has passed, and very few of us even flinched. At the risk of being a stick in the mud, or maybe a rotten acorn in the hollow tree, I tend to agree with Murray in this little rant.
I'm all for traditions. They can act like links in a chain between cultures here and there. But some of them are just pitiful.
We drag around this poor groundhog named Phil on February 2 because the day is halfway between Winter Solstice and the Spring Equinox, a day known as Imbolc. And in Celtic history, it was customary to follow a snake or badger to see if it came out of hiding and saw its shadow. Candlemas, a Christian feast day, falls on the same day, so some people think the present Groundhog Day is a remnant of that—"If Candlemas be bright and clear, there'll be two winters in the year."—although I don't see the connection between predicting the weather and purifying the Virgin.
I have grown up seeing pictures of big, fat Punxsutawney Phil, and Bill Murray's Groundhog Day is one of my favorite comedies, but it wasn't until just this past Saturday that I learned about Buckeye Chuck. Not to be outdone by Pennsylvania, Ohio has its own weather predictor rodent. Wisconsin has Jimmy the Groundhog, Florida has Pardon Me Pete, North Carolina has Sir Walter Wally, and Georgia has General Beauregard Lee. The General has an honorary doctorate from Georgia State University.
And there are others. There are pet groundhogs who sometimes see their shadows all over Canada, and the Caribbean has West Indies Wilbur, a big pig who has predicted six more weeks of winter this year.
So, another Groundhog Day has passed, and very few of us even flinched. At the risk of being a stick in the mud, or maybe a rotten acorn in the hollow tree, I tend to agree with Murray in this little rant.I'm all for traditions. They can act like links in a chain between cultures here and there. But some of them are just pitiful.
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And - coincidentally - Happy Chinese New Year! Today we enter (you guessed it) the year of the rat!