Here we go again
Why do news organizations keep reporting on Groundhog Day?
You’d think, with all the stuff going on in our communities, in our country, and across the globe, we’d have better things to report.
But there it was again Friday, like annual clockwork, utterly predictable, debatably mundane, probably inevitable: Groundhog Day.
If ever there was a definition of a media event, this is it.
For decades, journalists have apparently flocked to small towns across North America to watch a small rodent make an unreliable weather forecast.
According to organizers of the Wiarton Willie Festival on the Bruce Peninsula here in Ontario, “each year media from around the world converge in Wiarton to hear Willie make his famous prediction.”
Others, apparently, descend annually on Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania, where “Phil” is Willie’s local counterpart.
Meanwhile, Wally, Sam, Chuck, Jimmy, Bill and others (but apparently, and predictably, no females — yet), depending on where you are and who (or what?) you are listening to, make similar (or often opposite) predictions across the United States, amid dull speeches by local politicians or dignitaries; hot chocolate and cold pancakes; and ice skating or carnival rides.
By the time we all got to work on Friday, the CBC, CTV, The Canadian Press, CNN, the Washington Post, the Guardian, People, and, yes, thespec.com, among many other news organizations, had dutifully filed stories with the big “news.”
To quote Shakespeare, “it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.”
No wonder the movie “Groundhog Day,” with Bill Murray, this year celebrating its 25th anniversary, has become such a classic.
Is it really just a movie, or are we all actually stuck in the same time loop? No matter how hard young reporters try to find a new angle, or how much their editors demand one, it is near impossible, and we all end up reading the same story, year after year after year.
Like the main character in the film, most journalists are unlikely to be enthusiastic about the assignment, yet editors everywhere keep sending reporters into the breach.
Once in a while, of course, someone comes up with something brilliant, lyrical, philosophical, poignant and profound, and to them we owe our great thanks.
But mostly it’s just another weather story dressed up as, well, a story about a furry mammal somehow predicting when winter will end.
Which brings us back to everyone’s favourite topic.
Especially in Canada, where we have such swings, the weather seems always on our minds, for good reasons and bad, and always part of the conversation.
How many times Friday did you discuss the weather? In the elevator, at the water cooler? Did you check the latest report before making weekend plans? Or did you just absorb it by osmosis, whether you read about Willie or not?
Meanwhile, no season defines Canadians better than winter. No season is deeper into our bones. No season is worth more talk, more consternation, and more news. No story is more difficult to write creatively than a weather update.
No wonder we still love Willie, even after all these years.