When the news broke about Rep. Gabrielle Giffords last weekend, it was groundhog Day all over again.
When he was 11, his father built him a banjo, at first fashioning the head out of groundhog hide.
But how many of us, thus sunk in despair, have not been vaulted back to equilibrium by another look at groundhog Day?
Harold Ramis made a passel of great comedies, but he never made one better than groundhog Day.
But as the capital struggled through another groundhog Day of posturing and positioning, the inside game was all that mattered.
The groundhog gave the bunny children some bits of dried sweet potato he had put away, and they started for home.
The groundhog or woodchuck is the best-known example of the group.
At each song, groundhog took another tree, getting closer and closer to his hole under a stump.
How could a groundhog, seeing his shadow, make winter any longer?
Alan would none of it; he was off to his woodchuck or groundhog.