So apparently as the new year was ushered in all of my old blogs were shown the door out. All the old classics, the crazies, the ode to pizza, the question mark...gone. All gone. Leads me to wonder if this is not some blatant form of symbolism, sent from the powers that be, to show me that my life is dispensible and that I can easily be deleted. Heh. Sounds so existential. But hell, that's life.

Did you notice that I'm older? Yes, that's right, blog...since our last interlude I have embarked on my third decade. It's been pretty nice. Didn't have to pay to be taken out to dinner for a day or two and my Mom sent me a Care Bear. (Funshine Bear, if you must know.) And don't laugh. You know you watched the show when you were little. I even had the lunchbox. I was the kid you were jealous of in preschool. Oh yes.

So now it's twenty-year-old me and my Funshine Bear. Getting ready to read on a Saturday night.

Save me, O God, from my insipid nerdom.

So why in God's name is the groundhog so special? Have YOU ever seen one?! Who gave this little bugger the right to be all high master of the weather for the next six weeks?! Honestly...Why, in America, do we even HAVE traditions like that? Allow me to propose a plausible re-enactment of the first ground hog sighting in the new Americas:

The Players: James Willyknickers- A happless young pioneer, out reconnoitering in the woodlands of his new homeland in oh, let's say...Pennsylvania.
Phil the Groundhog- Mammal.

JW: Oh, what a glorious day the Lord bestoweth upon us. As I frolic-eth around my new homestead, I relish-eth my newfound religious freedom, I cannot imagineth a more beauteous day than thisth. (As you can see, James has a slight lisp.)
Phil: Enter, stage right, from hole
JW: What ho! A fair woodland creature! I dost believe I detect in him the glimmer of environmental prescience!
Phil: Did he just call me a ho? I'm going back inside. (Exit.)
JW: Look there! A sign! The small fellow, as he emergeth from his hole, hath seen his owne shadowe. It must be that this small mammalian predicteth that there shalt be six more weeks until the spring. Alas, what misfortune!
Phil: (from hole) What the hell?

Curtain

Thank you, thank you. Another one of my triumphs in dramaticism, I know.

As a side note...if I ever grow up and have a band of any sort...I'm calling them The Groundhogs. Our first album? Rockhog. Just you wait.
But I digress...