Groundhog Night

"Actually," he begins, "for us, basically, Groundhog Night is much more important, scratch that, meaningful than Groundhog Day."

"He" is a guy I know, Yon (Thantos, from Indiana--stop that) and "us" is his group of Schmiccans, "an offshoot sect, basically, from the Wiccans." I nod. "We're basically more totemic in philosophy, more, well, technically, ascetically Druidic in practice, pagan monks, if you will." I won't, necessarily. "The hip nomenclature is 'ponk,' which I don't mind at all." He chortles.

"Basically, the ritual, which can be traced back as far as King Ethelrad's reign, but most Schmiccan elders believe it pre-dates that era by at least half a millennium, revolves around keeping vigil on this night and observing the nocturnal activities--which, actually hopefully are nil--of the latest descendent, presently Clearfield Caliph IX, of the ancient holy avatar groundhog Jesper. Basically, if the groundhog sleeps through the night, unstirred, Gaia will be good to us the following year: plentiful but not overabundant precipitation, adequate warmth for growing, but not excessive heat, basically a Mother Earth in harmony, or, if you will, one who's got her chakras together. If, on the other hand, the groundhog stirs, ambles about, and especially if it relieves itself, then, well, we're in for a tough year, I mean, storms, heat, cold, earthquakes, you name it. Like back in '96, Clearfield Caliph X, in what would be his last Groundhog night (he was killed in a tornado, naturally), he was basically doing cartwheels all night, in between relieving himself like, I mean, massively. We Schmiccans basically battened down the hatches that year. You remember the climate that year, don't you?" No. "You can look it up." I won't, obviously.

"Yeah, I won't be making the trek this year, but I'm going to stay up all night, nevertheless, actually, and watch the live feed. I'll call you if Caliph does anything weird." Don't, please. "I'd give you the password for the website, but then I'd have to summon you to a cleansing ceremony."

Just then the nice lady behind the counter at the Post Office asked if she could help me. "Don't get too crazy tonight, Yon."

"Actually, it's distilled moss night. YRRREEAAFGFGHHGEEEEEE!"

What it takes to mail a letter these days.

Doc Watson-Groundhog