The Weirdest Holiday of the Year

Well, it's almost here: Groundhog Day - that quirky holiday plunked down between Christmas and Valentine's Day that seems to serve no earthly purpose. I mean, what on earth do groundhogs have to do with the long-range weather forecast? And what is it with those guys in top hats? I don't know about you, but I've always thought Groundhog Day was just about the weirdest holiday in the whole calendar year.

This year I got curious enough to rouse myself out of my winter funk and do a little research (thanks, Wikipedia), and give you the skinny. But first, let's go straight to the source, the famous Punxsutawney Phil:

SOURCE: The 5 pm news, Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania

As the broadcast begins, we see a young reporter clutching a microphone, standing near a plate glass enclosure containing a burrow. Toward the back a groundhog can be seen, curled up in a nest of hay.

Interviewer: (smiling brightly) Hello, everyone! I'm Lester Krepsbach from the Philadelphia Inquirer, and I'm here in Punxsutawney, home of the famous groundhog, Punxsutawney Phil. He's agreed, for an extra ration of carrots, to spend a few minutes talking with us about his life as a top-class weather forecaster. Here is his burrow, and I think - yes, I think I can hear him snoring. Phil? Phil? (sounds of snuffling) Ah, here he is!

Phil: (crawling out, yawning and scratching himself) Oh, it's you again. You got my stuff?

Interviewer: Um, yes, here you go. (hands him a carrot) So, Phil, are you excited about tomorrow?

Phil: (chewing, speaking with his mouth full) What's your name again? Leo? Lenny? Are you kiddin'? Listen, just between you and me, I hate it. How would you like it if you were sleepin', and somebody came and grabbed you and pulled you out of bed? Then they put me in that stupid fake burrow, and they yell at me to come out, and there's all those cameras and people in top hats talking, blah, blah, blah. At least they give me some decent food afterwards. But those top hats? Pretty lame.

Interviewer: I've heard that some of your cousins aren't quite as, well, cooperative as you are.

Phil: Yeah, I heard about that. (he laughs and shakes his head) That was Jimmy, up in Wisconsin. They were holding him up for the camera, and he leaned over and bit the mayor's ear! Good for him, I say! (he leers up at the reporter and winks) Gotta tell you, when I heard that, I thought, maybe that's not such a bad idea, ya know what I mean?

Interviewer (backing away slightly): Um, yes. Now, Phil, some would say this tradition is slightly odd. Can you tell us how this all got started?

Phil: You kiddin'? I'm a groundhog, for cryin' out loud. What do I care about why you people do stuff? You're weird, that's all. Now can I go? I gotta get up early tomorrow. (He turns and waddles back into his burrow.)

Interviewer: Well, that was, er, enlightening. For further information, historian Dr. Lucretia Frost has graciously agreed to fill us in. Good evening, Dr. Frost.

The camera turns to zoom in on a tall woman standing by the information kiosk. She holds a sheaf of papers and looks slightly impatient. She puts the papers on a nearby table and frowns at the camera.

Dr. Frost: Yes, hello.

Interviewer: Dr. Frost, can you tell us a little about how this unusual tradition began?

Dr. Frost: (adjusting her glasses) Well, you see, humans have always tried to figure out ways to predict the weather - rain for their crops, an early winter - it was a matter of survival, really. So in parts of the world with cold winters, people looked for signs - the bands on woolly bear caterpillars, how early the geese migrate - to try to predict if a long, hard winter was on the way.

Interviewer: I've read that the date - February 2nd - is significant?

Dr. Frost: Yes, it is. You see, February 2nd is halfway between the Winter Solstice and the Spring Equinox. It was a pagan holiday first, and then became the Christian holiday, Candlemas, when priests would bless candles for people to take home and put in their windows. The superstition was that if the day was sunny, it was a sign that there would be 40 more days of cold and snow. Eventually, when German immigrants settled in Pennsylvania, they brought the custom with them.

Interviewer: And how did Punxsutawney come to be a center for this holiday?

Dr. Frost: (snorts in disgust) You can thank Clymer Freas for that. He was a newspaper editor here in Punxsutawney. He talked some of the local businessmen and hunters into finding some poor groundhog and hounding it out of its burrow. Now we're overrun with tens of thousands of tourists every February. Well, it's good for business, I suppose.

Interviewer: So you wouldn't take the predictions on Groundhog Day seriously?

Dr. Frost: (sniffs) Absolutely not. You'd have just as much luck predicting the weather if you tossed a coin. (Phil sticks his head out of his burrow and glares at her. She edges away carefully and clears her throat). Not that he isn't a fine groundhog, of course.

Interviewer: I see. Well, Dr. Frost, thank you for your time. (She picks up her papers and strides off as he turns back to the camera.) Well, there you have it, folks. From the ancient pagans to the tourists arriving as we speak, we're all looking for hopeful signs that winter will be over soon. I'm Lester Krepsbach, in Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania, and we'll see you on Groundhog Day!

(end of broadcast)

So, to quote Lester Krepsbach, there you have it. A strange holiday, born out of superstition, shaped over the centuries, brought to this country by German farmers, and finally whipped into a frenzy by businessmen and tourists in a little town in Pennsylvania.

You know what? Now that I know a little more, it makes me shake my head and smile. Isn't it just like us humans to try to find a little hope in the dark middle of winter, when we're tired of the snow and the endless cold? We all want something to cling to, some kind of assurance that spring is on the way, just to get us through these last hard weeks. Think of it: your ancestors, and mine, too, looking for signs, lighting candles, and hoping and praying for the strength to get through hard times.

Watch the guys in top hats if you like - hopefully Phil won't bite anyone's ear! But no matter what happens that morning, at least it means we're halfway there, right? As for me, I plan to light a candle and put it in my window, and then crawl into bed with a cup of coffee and a good book.

Hang in there, everyone. Spring's coming!