It's Groundhog Day...Again

The 2024 election feels a little we’re living a collective version of Groundhog Day.

In February of 2020, Joe Biden was (surprisingly) about to clinch the Democratic nomination for President. Donald Trump was the presumptive Republican nominee.

The Kansas City Chiefs played the San Francisco 49ers in the Super Bowl.

Taylor Swift was preparing to go on an international stadium tour for her new album, Lover.

Like Phil Connors, the protagonist in Harold Ramis’ now-classic film, our inbox has been full of messages asking some version of, “didn’t we just do this?”

As Phil grapples with his bizarre reality/prison/curse, he does what all of us might; he tests the limits. Is there something wrong with me? Are there consequences if I commit crimes? Can therapy help?

I see that with our own election: Can Nikki Haley win the Republican Primary? What if he’s goes jail? Maybe Biden will drop out? What about Gretchen Whitmer? Dean Phillips? RFK Jr? No one’s even voted yet!

Meanwhile, still stuck in Groundhog Day, Phil tries to leave Punxsutawney. He goes high - trying to save a homeless man. He goes low - robbing a bank and manipulating people. He goes medium.

Every day is Groundhog Day. And only he knows he’s stuck.

Somewhere along the way, he gives up. Slowly. He releases the illusion of control. And what I think is important about this is that it’s not like his earlier “giving up” attempts (death and despair were not escapes). He makes himself and his day the best available.

There are people he can’t save. Things he can’t change. But there are plenty of things about the day that he can impact, and he has finally figured out what those things are.

He takes up ice sculpting, French, jazz piano. He changes a stranger’s flat tire, catches a kid falling out of a tree. He falls in love - not just with his producer (it’s 1993, after all), but with the town of Punxsatowny, with life.

I love this depiction of acceptance. It’s different than the despair of opting out, turning it off, or hiding away that I think a lot of people settle for in our political climate.

Phil does the good he can because it matters today even if there’s no tomorrow. He makes his one day as beautiful as it can be because it may not make a difference to anyone else, but it makes a difference to him, which is, perhaps, the only difference we can ever make. And if we’re lucky, it changes the things around us, too.