February 2, 1887
Dear Diary,
There is no way to ease into what I’m about to recount. This morning, a man in a top hat came to my home, transferred me to a different, significantly smaller home, and surveilled me. When I finally emerged, midday, in need of sustenance, he went berserk, whooping and cheering. I assume this was all the result of lingering stress from the three-year economic depression that we recently came out of, but still—the day’s events have had real consequences for me. For example, I unfortunately now live here.
Yours,
Philip
February 2, 1888
Dear Diary,
Well, it appears that it wasn’t stress from the three-year economic depression. The gentleman has returned, this time with compatriots. When I exited my home of one year (bathroom’s now almost done), they were standing there, menacingly, as though they’d been awaiting my arrival for weeks. I thought that they might try to eat me. But, once again, they just looked upon my body, and rejoiced. Just in case they do wish to eat me and this is my final entry, please, whoever is reading this, I beg of you to skip the parts about what I did over the spring of 1887. I was getting to know a new neighborhood, I was angry, and I was afraid.
With appreciation and humility,
Philip
February 2, 1900
Dear Diary,
I have decided not only to accept my fate but to welcome it. I am a public figure (once a year). My shadow portends the weather. Plus, my celebrity has sparked the curiosity of a not insignificant number of mating prospects, including one Mary-Anne of Gobbler’s Knob. She’s got quite the pair (of teeth).
Sincerely,
Philip
February 2, 1911
Dear Diary,
Please congratulate me. Today, I am the father of four little kits. I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve these riches, other than visit every burrow within a hundred-foot radius during mating season. Being a father makes me think about the future more than ever before. Sometimes, Mary-Anne worries about the world that awaits our children when they are grown, but I say, “Take it from me, a clairvoyant groundhog—the future is bright!”
Papa Philip
February 2, 1923
Dear Diary,
Have you read “The Wasteland,” by T. S. Eliot? I hated it from the first line. The month of April is when I met Mary-Anne, and also, coincidentally, Cara, Laurie, Margaret, and Faye. April is the best!
Philip
February 2, 1930
Dear Diary,
Exciting news! Our state has a new ice-hockey team! For now, they are called the Philadelphia Quakers, a fitting name, as I am sure the denizens of Philadelphia will be known in this league as seekers of peace and harmony.
Enthusiastically,
Philip
February 2, 1946
Dear Diary,
The war has been over for more than five months, and this morning my crowd cheered for me more heartily than ever before. Also, last month, Dolly Parton was born!
Happily,
Phillip
February 2, 1963
Dear Diary,
Just read “Silent Spring.” Too depressed to summarize it here. Also makes me see humans in a different light. When I gazed out at the crowd today, I saw not friends but foes. Wondering if the bad alfalfa that put me out for two days earlier this week was drenched in pesticides. I did share my forecast with the people, but with a sense of existential nausea (and also literal nausea from the alfalfa).
Philip
February 2, 1964
Dear Diary,
The Beatles are coming here! Well, not here, Gobbler’s-Knob-here, but here to America! This is my attempt at a Beatles song about groundhogs:
All my loving,
Philip
February 2, 1972
Dear Diary,
What if I saw my shadow, but it wasn’t actually there? Sorry, I’m really high.
I love you,
Philip
February 2, 1986
Dear Diary,
Guess what the Voyager 2 just got a picture of? Uranus. (Humor is, for me, a necessary antidote to society’s many ills.)
Best,
Philip
February 2, 1993
Dear Diary,
They made a movie about me!!! It comes out in just over a week. It tells the story of a man who must repeat February 2nd until he fully appreciates the wonder of the groundhog.
Yours,
Philip
February 2, 1997
Dear Diary,
Some new research has emerged implying that it is not I who controls climate and our ever-warmer seasons. Luckily, no one in America seems to believe the data.
Stay tuned,
Philip
February 2, 2015
Dear Diary,
I only noticed that it was winter because they plucked me out for my jubilee. If winter never begins, can it end? This gig is beginning to feel somewhat ominous.
Ruminatively,
Philip
February 2, 2019
Dear Diary,
You won’t believe this, but they still have yet to do basically anything about climate change.
Grimly,
Philip
February 2, 2021
Dear Diary,
Today, I emerged to see that my audience was absent. Only the men who stand with me onstage were there, as well as a cameraperson. This can only mean one thing: I am finally an Internet sensation.
XOXO,
Philip
February 2, 2022
Dear Diary,
I’m pleased to say that everything is fixed! Humans have eliminated greenhouse-gas emissions, convinced corporations to function more sustainably, and solved that thing where less than ten per cent of plastics get recycled. Not a moment too soon!
With great relief,
Philip
