Every February 2, Ground Hog Day hosts a big to-do across the country, providing a mid-winter photo-op for town dignitaries.  They assemble around the humble abode of some local celebrity ground hog, whose name varies by burg, town or city.  In my town, we have our own, “Floozie.”  Every year, our mayor, never shy in front of a camera, positions himself between the camera and Floozie’s front door, and then in a humbling moment, drops down to his hands and knees adjacent the hole, with an upturned smiling face, to assure front page coverage in the local newspaper.  

Last year, when Floozie poked out her head, as is the custom on this day, she retreated quickly to safer quarters.  Normally, that result would signal six more weeks of winter.  But no one knows for sure whether Floozie’s timidity arose from seeing her shadow or the mayor’s toothy grin.  The party out of power blasted  the mayor for hogging the moment, while the other party yelled “sour grapes” for the opposing party’s loss in the last election.  In a spirit of good will, the mayor poked his head inside Floozie’s home seeking to coax her out again.  No one could hear the mayor’s message, as the fit was tight so his voice didn’t carry to the crowd amassed outside.  

All could see, however, that the mayor had become more agitated, because the veins along his neck started pulsating and bulging.  After a while, he started to flail his arms, so the assembled dignitaries realized that they had a public relations disaster on their hands.  The mayor’s head was stuck in the hole.  As you could imagine, since Floozie had spent the whole winter in her den, the odor must have been overwhelming.  

So some well-meaning souls grabbed the mayor’s feet and pulled hard.   Out came his head with a loud POP.  Without missing a beat, the mayor quickly turned to the camera, flashing his toothy grin with an upturned, reddened head and declared:  “With the authorization provided me by my office, I declare that we will have six more weeks of winter.”

Since the “boos” overwhelmed any “hoorays”, the mayor continued:  “But I am going to lower your taxes, provide more jobs, and assure every child gets the best education.”  He hit the right message, because the fickle voters had forgotten about the six more weeks of winter.  

After everyone left, a small protrusion could be observed wiggling from the hole, and a wee voice declared:  “My tale is told!”