Now that all of us are living through Groundhog Day—the movie, not the tourist trap—it’s time we update our myths to acknowledge our new reality.
As we all know, we're supposedly in for another six weeks of winter weather if the groundhog sees his shadow on February 2, but the weather will be mild if, like Peter Pan, our pudgy marmot cannot find his shadow. Either way, spring is seven weeks away.
I've always been confused by this rule. There would only be a shadow if the sun is shining, but a sunny day predicts rough weather and a gloomy day is good news? It’s not the goofiest idea in the world, but it’s not terribly logical. On the other hand, we’re taking our weather forecast from a rodent, so who are we to judge?
We’ve all been living our own version of Groundhog Day over the past year, beginning around GDay 2020, when millions of us saw our news feeds and retreated into our dens for six more weeks. And then another six weeks. And another six. And another. And another. And another. And another. And another, until here we are on the eve of GDay 2021, the sequel.
Along the way, we’ve had the opportunity to come up with much more relevant traditions than shadows and weather. Let’s update our mythology to reflect our own lives as burrowing mammals, including:
If I get on the scale and I cannot see my feet, I’m due for six more weeks of pretending to diet.
If I take my kid to school and none of the teachers is there, I’m in for six more weeks of sharing my computer.
If I can’t fit into my slacks and my my feet are too fat for my shoes, I’m headed for another six weeks of working from home.
If I call my barber and he’s still closed, I can expect six more weeks with a mullet.
If I check out the state’s website and our positivity rate is above 8%, I’ll be drinking alone, at home, for another six weeks.
Even if I yell "AGENT!!!" enough times to finally reach a human being at the airline, it will still be six more weeks before I get my refund. Maybe.
If I leave the apartment and I see my shadow—or if I don’t--we’re in for six more weeks of polarized politics across America. And six more weeks after that. And after that…
Now that I think about it, we can learn a lot from our friendly rodents. Maybe the best plan for my sanity is a return to my burrow for the next six weeks, emerging from my lair in time for the equinox. Things can’t possibly get worse in the meantime, could they?
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Who writes this stuff?
Dadwrites oozes from the warped mind of Michael Rosenbaum, an award-winning author who spends most of his time these days as a start-up business mentor, book coach, photographer and, mostly, a grandfather. All views are his alone, largely due to the fact that he can’t find anyone who agrees with him.