In case you weren’t aware, Groundhog’s Day, a holiday signifying that winter is ending soon, is on February 2nd every year. It’s a stupid holiday because festivities only last about 5 minutes. No, I shouldn’t say festivities – it is a single festivity. Punxsutawney Phil. The namesake of this waste of time. The infamous groundhog. He pops out of his “burrow” (it’s really just a stump with a small door and his name plastered on the side) and tells us what the weather forecast for the next 6 weeks is. Newsflash Phil, even if you don’t see your shadow, the spring equinox doesn’t even start until March 19th. Just because you’ve been put on a pedestal your entire life does not mean you can control the weather.
That’s another thing, there is no possible way that it is the same groundhog that’s been making predictions for 137 years. I don’t care how much “groundhog punch” or “elixir of life” the Punxsutawney Groundhog Club has been sustaining him with. The groundhog’s lifespan is up to 6 years, the average being 2-3. And even if he really were the same meteorologist groundhog that has been foreseeing the seasons changing for over a century, he’s not even good at his job. He’s only right 39% of the time. A newborn baby would have a better chance at guessing correctly than this oversized squirrel.
If he has as much experience as he claims, how has he still not learned what a shadow is? He’s seen it 107 times. On top of his incompetence, why would he be afraid of a groundhog-shaped figure when February is literally the start of groundhog mating season? Shouldn’t he be looking for a partner that he can “enjoy a good book” or discuss after “reading the daily newspaper” (two of Phil’s favorite activities according to the Punxsutawney Groundhog club) with?
I just don’t think it’s the kindest thing to do to get people’s hopes up with a prediction of warmer weather and ultimately disappoint everyone when you are inevitably wrong. Come on Phil, get your act together.
