williamallenpepper

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GROUNDHOG DAY MASSACRE

“Come with me if you want to live.”

“I was sleeping! It’s winter,” the bed-headed groundhog said. “That’s what I do.”

” ’tis not safe for hibernating, noble creature. One of your brethren hath seen his shadow. Six more weeks of winter is at hand.”

“Phil! That media whore…”

“The humans. They are outraged.”

“Who are you?” The little groundhog asked.

“Most people call me Father Time. You can call me Father-Save-Your-Ass.” Father Time marched ahead, in long strides, heavy black boots leaving deep impressions in the snow.

The groundhog scampered after the old man, paws dwarfed in Father Time’s tracks. “Where are we going?”

“Somewhere that the calendar is irrelevant and the change of seasons matters not.”

“Vegas?”

“Yeah. I know a place where the prime rib buffet is amazing.”

“But I’m an herbivore.”

“They have a Cobb salad that’s to die for.”

“Doesn’t the Cobb have meat on it?”

“Can we discuss the menu later?”

“I guess. Blackjack or poker?”

“We’ll do it all, friend,” Father Time said. “We’ll do it all.”

“Sweet. Lead on.”

The ageless one and the rodent marched onward to a land even more legendary than themselves.

All over the world – wherever groundhogs are indigenous anyway – this same scene played out Sunday after Punxsutawney Phil saw his shadow on Sunday. I have at least two apps on my phone that tell me weather, two on my iPad, and cable TV and the whole of the Internet at my disposal. Yet, Sunday morning, like many people, my first weather thought was to wonder what the groundhog “predicted” about the weather.

Not that I’m superstitious or anything. Once that silliness was over, I got on with my day.

I arrayed a bag of old mailman bones across the floor in intricate patterns to try and forecast when my new Netflix pick will show up. (yes, I do discs AND streaming. When the Internet-alypse comes – and it will – I’ll still be able to watch Dexter.)

Later, I’m going to sacrifice a box of Velveeta to the gods of nacho dip.

Then, maybe I’ll rub my rabbit’s foot for luck. Not a euphemism. Really ticks off the rabbit though.

Why seek out facts when random coincidence will do?

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