This week has been filled with cheers, hurrahs, and a great deal of relief. In many ways, it was a litmus test of the country and the people who live in it. From representation to better policy change to come, and a world that reflects people’s thoughts and feelings: a world where people want change to come and positive change to flourish. In the worst of times, we have found the best times. It felt like a 3-0 sweep to clear out many people who, for the most part, were no better than Joker henchmen, but given the current world, Joker may be too tame a comparison. We still have two years left, and we’ve found ourselves in a lot of trouble; this is only the beginning, and we have much farther to go. Who could be mad at this at the end of the day with so much positivity and excitement in our time? Well, not that you cannot be happy and look forward to the future, but this week seems a lot like Punxsutawney Phil and his famous day.
Punxsutawney Phil and the Groundhog Day celebration come from a Germanic tradition that says if a hibernating animal casts a shadow on February 2nd, winter and cold weather last another six weeks, and if not, spring will come early. When Germans settled in Pennsylvania, they transferred the tradition, replacing hedgehogs with groundhogs. Punxsutawney Phil and his forefathers have done this since 1886, and only ten times has there been no record of the event. In 141 total times, Punxsutawney Phil has seen his shadow 109 times since 1886. 109 times, winter has supposedly lasted six more weeks and 20 times spring came early. As a denizen of this rock and one who has only lived a quarter of a full life, he has not seen his shadow for six years in my life so far. Not to call Punxsutawney Phil a liar, but to my knowledge, it has been more than six years since spring has come early. With Global warming hot on his heels, it seems as though sometime in the future, whether Punxsutawney Phil sees his shadow or not, spring will be here quick, fast, and in a hurry. Punxsutawney Phil is a tradition carried over from a previous time that we celebrate every year for fun and to tell what is to come in this season, or whether it is to end. Will I keep shoveling snow, or will I be free and see the May showers some weeks earlier? Punxsutawney Phil back in 1886, and in Germany, may have been used to real effect and most likely was treated as such. Farmers and townspeople depended on his little shadow and what it told them about their success or coming doom. Praying for that small shadow to hide for the sake of their crops, for the sake of their families' health. It was almost a tradition and institution, something that swayed the thoughts and hearts of the people who looked on. Now, little ol Punxsutawney Phil is kind of a sweet gag or a tradition that we watch every year and speak about because how could a groundhog that is supposed to be a hedgehog tell us when winter is leaving or staying? The saddest thing is that they believed it back then, and worse, there must be those poor souls who believe it now; if only someone could tell them how much of a joke little Punxsutawney Phil is.
In 2007, I knew Punxsutawney Phil was a joke. That year he didn’t see his shadow, but the weather still has a funny way of doing what it wants. That year, the Mid-Atlantic and Northeast still faced a major late-winter snowstorm and blizzard-like conditions, and it found its way to Ohio on a morning that felt like a blessing. My mother had to take a specific hill to get me to middle school and my brother to high school. Most days it was just a hill nothing modern engineering scoffed at, but a rear-wheel-drive Cadillac was struck with a fly’s fear of death, drawn to the hellfire that shines as blue light as his brother falls; he must continue despite the mounting stack of bodies. Every day it snowed, and we did not get a snow day; I knew I had a chance on that hill. The Cadillac and my mom, who hated driving it in the snow, could get stuck and frustrated on that hill. Sometimes it happened, and sometimes it didn’t; thankfully, Punxsutawney Phil is a liar, and it was one of those days when it did. Her yelling at us to be quiet, driving down the hill in reverse, honking her horn; it felt as though the cherubim had offered me a solo and raised it to a personal orchestral performance. That day and those few days, I felt like one of God’s favorites, but as I basked in this radiance, what about Punxsutawney Phil? Should my mom blame him for not seeing his shadow? Did Punxsutawney Phil lie about not seeing it? Was the town in on it because they wanted winter to leave quicker, so they fixed the event? Punxsutawney Phil must be to blame; to the victor go the laurels, and to the defeated they must suffer history’s wrath. Then, as the orchestra went into intermission, the thought came. Can you really blame Punxsutawney Phil? This is his job, yes, and he is supposed to determine what happens next, but if you listen to the rodent that is placed on a pedestal to see his shadow or not, who is the fool in that instance? Is it Punxsutawney Phil for being wrong? Am I for believing a groundhog to determine whether I can drive up a hill or collect my crops earlier? A fair question then, and an easy one now; the silly one is you. Some would think we have a better understanding than to listen to him. We have technology, meteorologists, and the news that forecast the weather. It is nice when Punxsutawney Phil is right and consistent year to year, but the onus is on us, the people who live day by day, to face the brunt of what he says, right or wrong, shadow or not. It is a practical world where you must enact everything you wish to see. Long ago, I am sure they punished Punxsutawney Phil if he lied or didn’t see his shadow, to hold him accountable; however useless it may have been, the sentiment made sense. A life of service demands accountability. A lovable mascot is a moniker for those we cheer on at games and events that hold little consequence, not for what determines whether our children will make it to school or whether our family will survive the coming year. Still, we often sit here like fools again and again, looking at our hands and wondering how our hero failed. He’s a groundhog; what else do you expect?
I am a Punxsutawney Phil slanderer, but my identity doesn’t guide my belief. Definition and identity matter, but they’re the least important thing in practice, yet they carry so much weight for us. Titles and identities are well and good; after all, to the broader world and to yourself, they tell you who you are and what you put your faith in. It is about what you believe, who you associate with, and what they believe. It would be unfair and wrong to say it has no importance, but at some point it loses its usefulness. A Bible-thumping, Lord-loving Sunday devote Christian loves God and can judge every soul and talk about them on the street, just as an atheist can show the utmost love, volunteer in shelters every day, and commit to a life that supports their community. Each one has their identifier; we expect something from them because classifications become expectations of a person, but often they amount to nothing more. “Punxsutawney Phil has the same hair texture as me!” “Punxsutawney Phil’s follows the same belief system as me!” Yes, Punxsutawney Phil representing you is all well and good, but representation seldom amounts to anything, and it’s far more grave when those who represent you determine the weather. You may call yourself a Punxsutawney Phil believer, know his record by heart, and recite the announcements like you have them in front of you, but if he tells you his shadow isn’t there and you act as if winter is coming, what true purpose does your allegiance serve? That is the point; there should not be one. We let identity speak for the change we want to see, and speech rarely gets you farther than nice words and tears; at some point, someone’s got to pick up stones, grab signs, and hand out food. Faith, belief, and hope are all fine, all important and impactful, but year after year, time after time, and as things go on, you understand that Punxsutawney Phil does his show every year for a reason: to give you something to watch, to cheer for, and to boo at. Still, he, like his forefathers, keeps everything in check and the same. It is a system; after all, win, lose, or draw, it is doing exactly what it needs to do.
Punxsutawney Phil and the WWE are blood brothers in this affair. As the YouTuber FD Signifier outlined, when I was young it seemed real; it seemed honest because, as a kid, those things seemed real and honest if they held your attention from behind a television screen. Same as all the moves in wrestling are real, and this is real wrestling; the stories behind each wrestler, their agendas, and their problems are real too. Then, after a while, you learn that Punxsutawney Phil is like any groundhog and that wrestling is the same. Kayfabe describes how the audience knows what is happening isn’t real, but believing it is real is a genuine part of wrestling, and that belief makes it fun. We know the outcomes are predetermined; we know the stories are made up because this is entertainment; it is a system of stories, after all. In the 80s, the audience still didn’t know wrestling was fake; like long ago in Germany, they believed Punxsutawney Phil’s predictions. Wrestlers kept the kayfabe alive after they left the ring by being mean to fans in real life to stay in character, learning languages they were supposed to know. All to signify that it works, that it is a genuine thing. If they broke this, it would break the system, the business, because if people knew the truth, it would all fall apart. Though one day it all broke and the audience was let in on the fiction, and luckily the stories became grander and more creative. You would be surprised, but some people still believe that wrestling is real, and those people are called marks. Marks believe opposing wrestlers are actually enemies and that Punxsutawney Phil really determines whether winter will last longer or spring will come early. Marks believe that the current political system will free them and their people. Marks believe the party they support will liberate them. Punxsutawney Phil can be wrong year after year, and he will still stand on that podium. Debunk it with your points and opinions, saying why Punxsutawney Phil does not determine the weather, but either way, he will be there; he will stay there. Does that sound like a good system to you? Is this current point in time one of promise? Sure, it is, but you need to understand that putting Punxsutawney Phil on a pedestal and expecting him to be the savior of the seasons is a lie you tell yourself. If you put anything into Punxsutawney Phil, berate him when he is wrong, call out every year he is wrong, and hold his little feet to the fire not to support animal abuse, but you now understand who Punxsutawney Phil is. What we must do is kick him off the pedestal, destroy the stump he stands on, and deliberate about the weather over months in the town square. Punxsutawney Phil has been here since 1886 because he keeps the kayfabe going, keeps the system in place, and makes our involvement and belief in him feel genuine and beneficial. When he is right, we are right; when he is wrong, we are wrong. Punxsutawney Phil and wrestling are the same: identification and support, qualification and belief, but it is all a story that we are told at the end of the day. So appreciate the day just a bit longer. Then realize this is not the end; it is a long beginning in a story told many times, and it has rarely veered off the beaten path it needs to veer from for change to happen. You must build, do, and live the change you want to see rather than put your faith in Punxsutawney Phil. After all, as the years go on and he makes more predictions, you will meet someone who said they knew the whole time that he got it wrong in 2007; they knew from the beginning, and you will meet more and more people who believe that. Then you will stop and think, well, someone had to support him, support that movement; what are the chances he rose to power and took office and made everything worse by himself? Whoops, I mean, someone had to believe Punxsutawney Phil back then.
