Every year countless Americans gather to watch a groundhog be yanked from the ground as a symbol of two options. Sometime mid-breakfast, millions observe the unveiling of the most famous whistle-pig known to our wild hemisphere in his silly accordance with what is possibly Pennsylvania’s oldest tradition to date. February 2nd in Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania is a wacky holiday, and a traditionally German one at that. Festival goers daring enough to speak English during this woodchuckling celebration pay a nickel or dime penalty per word spoken. The coins are collected in a bowl at the center of the stage where one charming groundhog says his big hello. That’s “hallo” to you.
The point of all this? If Punxsutawney Phil emerges from his burrow and sees a loaf-shaped shadow, we’re doomed to six more weeks of winter. If Phil leaves his lair and doesn’t see any shadow, lucky us! New England is set for an early spring. Bring on allergy season!
After hearing Phil was on his way to Boston to catch Wakes last weekend at Great Scott, we seized the opportunity to chat with him over a basket of fried pickles and craft beers at The Avenue Bar in Allston. A few hours before the show I sat with Phil to talk his place in the groundhog spotlight, his candid struggle with addiction and his serious love for Philly’s DIY scene.
Allston Pudding: Aren’t you supposed to be… burrowing right now?
Punxsutawney Phil: Most of my species is this time of year. But with the holiday coming up I’ve been on a press tour these last few weeks. Each stop had to be pretty nondescript. Elementary schools, senior citizen homes, y’know, nothing to get too much media attention. Everyone thinks I should be hibernating, but my agent—bless his soul—put this in place to help me make some extra money. The off-season for a groundhog is pretty harsh. You gotta milk the holiday for all it’s worth.
AP: How long have you been doing this? Being Punxsutawney Phil?
Phil: This is my fourth year as a Punxsutawney groundhog. Other Phil’s average about a year or two, so I’m definitely an unusual case.
AP: Did you set out to become Punxsutawney Phil, or is it just something that fell into place?
Phil: I was pretty fortunate in my case, actually. In early 2010, the woman I thought I was going to marry ended it all. We’d been dating for the better part of five years, and I was really depressed, you know? Not leaving my den for days, binge eating wood chips… my drinking was getting really out of hand. It was sometime around January that I totally hit rock bottom. I remember sitting in my kitchen in my bathrobe around noon with a handle of Sailor Jerry’s. I’d been Craigslisting missed connections, and for the hell of it I looked into job postings. And thank God I did. I don’t know where I’d be today if it weren’t for this gig. Not that everything turned around completely at once. It’s been a long road to recovery.
AP: Damn, Phil. We’re glad you’re here.
Phil: I appreciate that. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of that day. I kept that bathrobe as a memory of my lowest point. Y’know, a daily reminder of what I’ve overcome. Plus it’s cashmere, I couldn’t just throw it away.
AP: If you don’t mind me asking, how did you manage to overcome something so heavy? I’m sure working as Punxsutawney Phil helped, right?
Phil: It definitely did. When I got the call that I’d be appearing on stage, I put a lot of time into getting in shape. Physical exercise did a lot for me. Aside from half-marathons and a triathlon here and there, I’ve been getting into Kripalu, which is a type of yoga that focuses entirely on one’s being. Meditation is also a powerful tool that you can use in all realms of your life. And you know, there was always the music.
AP: Yeah! How did you get into the Philly music scene?
Phil: My family migrated to Philly in 2008, I was sixteen [in human years]. It was never something I thought a lot about, really. I just fell into it. I had a friend in high school whose older brother had a radio show at Drexel. He was home for Thanksgiving one year and played us a track from Like a Fox’s Where’s My Golden Arm. I think it was “Night Person,” yeah! I remember him telling us the band played regularly near our hometown. At 16, it was so exiting to me that live music was so close. I was going to shows regularly by 17. It was tough at first. Everyone was seeing this groundhog at shows and thinking “Holy shit! A giant rat!” But after a while the crowds got used to it. I still get stares every one and a while, but this holiday thing has helped a lot.
AP: What other Philly bands got you hooked?
Phil: Oh man, a ton. Clap Your Hands Say Yeah were huge for me. They were blowing up at the time. 2008, 2009 were great years for indie music. Some Loud Thunder had just come out and I was really digging it. It’s still one I listen to regularly. I saw them at Union Transfer, Electric Factory, all over!
AP: What about basement shows?
Phily: Philly’s DIY scene holds a true place in my heart, which literally speaking, isn’t all that large because I’m basically the size of a guinea pig. Audiences in Philly don’t just participate at shows, they actively support local bands. It’s a lot like Boston, actually. Today it’s easy to catch a set in somebody’s kitchen or basement. And it’s not just DIY shows. Zines, literature, all types of art. I’ve been booking underground shows for a few years now. It’s definitely something that keeps me sane during the off-season. My drinking’s at a manageable place now too.
For a while I was getting pretty crazy with shows. I came up with a concept to connect underground venues through a series of tunnels. Crazy, right? Everyone thought it was a pretty cool idea at first, but when they realized I was only digging them big enough for a 14 pound animal, they became pretty skeptical. I suggested making them bigger, but structural safety become a thing…
AP: What bands are you big into now?
Phil: Jeez, there’s so many. Lately I’ve been into Cayetana, Heavy Bangs and Radiator Hospital, Pissed Jeans, Purling Hiss, The Ambulars, Restorations, Creepoid, Modern Baseball… there’s a bunch of others I’m forgetting.
AP: Are groundhogs usually into music?
Phil: For sure! My parents raised me on the classics. Springsteen, Tom Petty, my mom was really into Patsy Cline, Emmy Lou Harris—definitely a fan of the female country vibe. When we were young my brother was super into hip-hop. My grandfather played the accordion in an all-rodent polka band. I come from all sorts of influences.
AP: No way! What a cool grandpa. Have you ever tried your hand at the accordian? Sorry, your paw?
Phil: My parents tried to get me to play for a bit, but as a kid my paws weren’t big enough to span high and low keys. I got frustrated pretty easily and gave up. I still regret doing that, and I’m so busy today it’s hard to find the time. My grandfather passed away when I was 8 or so. I wear the feather from his Bobbin hat at each G-day festival.
AP: G-day?
Phil: Oh, sorry. It’s just a nickname for Groundhog Day.
AP: Gotcha. Speaking of G-Day, what can we expect for this year?
Phil: I’m under contract to say as little about the results as possible. But off the record, I definitely think we could all use an early spring. A little sunshine, you know? Seasonal affective disorder has definitely got the better of me this year. Hell, all weather aside, this winter’s been a harsh one for all of us. If I climb out of my burrow and see my shadow on Monday, I swear to God, I’m gonna pee all over Bill Deeley.
AP: That’s quite the move, Phil.
Phil: They don’t call me Punx for nothing. Are you gonna finish that beer?