Dear Winter Teacher,
That dang groundhog saw his shadow. I do not like this. If there's one thing we don't need six more weeks of it's winter and masks and double masks and hand sanitizer and quarantines and billboards reminding us that staying six feet away saves lives.
We know it does, and we'll keep trying. But staying six feet, six miles, six hundred miles away is also ruining lives while it’s saving them. We need to see our people. We need to hug them, and we can't wait six weeks for the lake to thaw to do it.
Also, a livestream from Gobbler’s Knob in Punxsutawney is suspicious no matter how you spin it. The crowds couldn't even get near the furry creature to verify the accuracy of this shadow business.
Do we even know if this is true? These days truth in journalism is about as reliable as the Stewart family Yugo on a divided highway in 1992. If crowds can’t even verify the accuracy of the shadow, how do we know for certain we still have six more weeks of winter?
All I am saying is I’m not putting a lot of stock in a virtual groundhog event, and let’s not forget they woke the creature at 7:25, around the time teachers were unloading kids from buses, assisting with breakfast duty, and double-checking cubbies for proper lunchbox placement. Coincidence? I think not.
If teachers hadn’t been preoccupied, this shady rollout wouldn’t have happened. One teacher would have measured the shadow, another would have warned Phil he could not base his shadow theory on the recent snowstorms, and another would have yelled at the groundhog to stop his foolishness and roll out of bed before 7:25 a.m.
Nonetheless, I did like Phil’s closing words, “After winter, you’re going to see one of the most beautiful and brightest springs you’ve ever seen.” You better not be lying, Phil.
We need something beautiful and bright to anticipate, specifically something a little less virtual and a lot more real.
Are you listening, Mr. Groundhog?
-CDB