Wednesday, April 23, 2014

The Last Woodchuck Festival
Bernie Woodchuck-an artist's rendering.
    Bernie was a Woodchuck and he was as clever as they come and most agreed that he would probably grow up to be a wise Woodchuck elder.
    The Woodchuck is a curious animal with many peculiarities and idiosyncrasies.  Firstly, and quite contrary to their name, they don’t eat wood (at least on a volunteer basis.)  Woodchucks prefer eating nuts when they are in season otherwise it’s mainly leaves, grass, and small insects they eat, but there’s a lot more to the Woodchuck than their dietary preferences.  
    “There’s a lot more to us Woodchucks than our dietary preferences.”  exclaimed Maddy Woodchuck one day as Woolary Woodchuck listened attentively (he had a crush on Maddy ever since their family burrowed-in next door.)  “..and by the way, we don’t eat wood." she concluded.
Maddy and Woolary 
    So strong, in fact, is the Woodchuck’s aversion to eating wood that some of them even despise their own namesake because of it. A few years back there was even a movement (albeit quite lackluster) among some of the Woodchucks to adopt one of their other nicknames so-as-to disassociate themselves entirely from wood and or wood like materials.  The name Whistle-pig and Land-beaver were supported by some but not enough to facilitate any sort of change and it was unanimously agreed upon that the scientific name of Marmota Monax was a disagreeable thing altogether.  
      The peculiarities and idiosyncrasies of the Woodchuck are as varied as they are abundant and as it turns out, they are staunchly traditional animals and, in the end, downplayed any manner of name-change and agreed almost unanimously, that they should stick with the name Woodchuck from here henceforth and that would be the end of it. 
 “We shall stick with the name Woodchuck henceforth.”  declared Elmer Woodchuck largest and oldest of the Woodchucks.  “..and that will be the end of it.”
A local publication details
the events of the Woodchuck's
 fall election.
    Also, Woodchucks are very social animals and tend to spend the lion-share of their time closely alongside other Woodchucks.  This is true most of the time except for when the owl is around then it’s much more of an on-your-own social structure.   In the time-of-the-owl, most of the Woodchucks hunker down in their burrows and sleep-it-off until the owl has left.  Bernie, who was clever as they come, could never sleep during these stessful times and would use the downtime to think and to plan stuff and sometimes to worry.
      Nevertheless every Spring the elder Woodchucks would gather with their grey whiskers, wise remarks, yellowed teeth, and slow purposeful movements in the biggest of the field’s burrows.  Bernie’s dad Roger maintained the great burrow, as it was called, and it was agreed upon among all the Woodchucks that it was the tidiest and grandest burrow that anyone had ever seen.  
     “That Roger Woodchuck sure maintains the tidiest and grandest burrow that I've ever seen.”  exclaimed Betsy Woodchuck one day to her best friend and confidant Louisa Woodchuck (They became best of friends after their parent’s burrows living room walls collapsed into each others.  Louisa’s dad fell into Betsy’s mom’s lap but that is another story.)
    “Yes Betsy.”  Louisa said but she was notorious for her awkwardly long pauses between thoughts.  “I do believe you are right.”, and after a full minute had passed, she continued.  “It is quite tidy”, and then after another minute or so of quiet contemplation she finally finished. “I think it’s probably the grandest burrow ever.”
     There, inside the tidy and grand burrow so well-kept by Roger Woodchuck and ready for business were the elders.  The gathering would take an entire day like it had every Spring and there was no sense of hurry.   The order of business was the same each year:  plan and organize the Woodchuck field’s only annual celebration, the Woodchuck festival.  The annual Woodchuck festival was centered around one activity and one activity only: The wood eating contest.  None of the elders ever entered the contest themselves instead taking great care to select young male Woodchucks to compete instead.  It was a great source of pride for the elders to kick off such a traditional and joyous event.
    “As you all know it is a great source of pride for us elders to kick off such a traditional and joyous event.” announced Elmer. The opening ceremonies had begun and Bernie tried to make himself small. Elmer was front-and-center and he was beaming with pride and joy. He reached up to pull down a curtain of moss from the ceiling revealing a large ball of woven roots.  Inside the root ball was an assortment of branches in all differing sizes and varieties.
Elmer Woodchuck in his
younger and more spry years.

“Our first contestant is....Bernie!”
    “Drat!” thought Bernie as the crowd vocalized their support.  One by one the other four contestants names were presented with much fanfare that included lots of whistling, cheering, and obligatory chirping.   The conclusion of the naming of the contestants marked the official beginning of the festival that was always punctuated by song.  Quietly and slowly it began. It was a rhythmic chanting of the festival's motto by the entire Woodchuckery.  It was a jingle all the Woodchucks knew by heart and it was one that Bernie hated.


“How much wood
could a Woodchuck chuck
if a wood chuck
could chuck wood?”


“How much wood
could a Woodchuck chuck
if a Woodchuck
could chuck wood?”


    Faster and faster and louder and louder the Woodchucks would recite this jingle until finally all the words ran together followed by more whistling, cheering, and obligatory chirping.
   “God I hate that.” Bernie said out loud.  Roger was nearby and overheard Bernie’s comment.
   “Sorry son.”  Roger’s face crinkled as he faced his son.  “ You know Bernie, I had to eat wood when I was your age.”
    “How was it dad?  Was it tasty?” Bernie shot back.
    “Look Bernie, this is a tradition that...”  Bernie was visibly upset.  He turned away from his dad and made his way up and out of the great burrow and into his own. The obligatory chirping, cheering and whistling continued to echo from the great burrow as Bernie doubled-over and lost his lunch which consisted mainly of nuts, ( they were in season) but also leaves, roots, and insects.  
     No one could have predicted the untimely arrival of the owl that day. The high pitched screech of the owl brought the opening ceremonies to an immediate stop.  As if on cue everyone scurried off to their own burrows and settled in for a long nap.  The Woodchuck festival would have to wait.
    
Demitrius Woodchuck practicing
for the wood-eating contest.
 As his fellow Woodchuck brethren slept, Bernie sat in quiet reflection thinking, planning stuff and worrying.




****************************************************


    “Three.....two.....one.....go!” Elmer Woodchuck pulled down on the root ball as hard as his old claws could manage.  It was three days later and with the owl long gone from the field the Woodchucks were eager to return to their one-and-only Woodchuck festival and its one and only activity: the wood eating contest.  
    The carefully wrapped ball of woody branches came tumbling down from the roof of the great burrow landing in the middle of a carefully drawn circle.  There were four contestants other than Bernie all waiting on their marked spots for the games to begin.  Behind the circle of contestants were the rest of the Woodchucks that filled the burrow to capacity.  With standing-room only,  the burrow was vibrant with Woodchuck enthusiasm.  When the root ball fell and busted open on the ground, the contestants scampered to the pile to begin their rite-of-passage: eating wood. The crowd cheered, whistled and chirped their encouragement. All the contestants scampered to the wood except Bernie.  
       Betsy’s brother Carl got there first and grabbed a branch of birch and began gnawing on it. Soon after, Lanny and Danny Woodchuck (twins) arrived and tied into either end of a rather thick branch of cottonwood.  The next to arrive after tripping over his own tail was Demitrius Woodchuck and he grabbed the first thing he could, which he regretted later because it was a green spruce branch.  Beads of spruce sap gathered at the corners of his mouth as he chewed his way down the stick all-the-while sporting a particularly sour look upon his face.
     Bernie, standing steady at his starting spot didn’t budge.  He watched as the other four Woodchucks worked and chewed and gnawed at the woodpile.   Although Bernie knew all of them well, each of them had unrecognizable facial expressions as they each tried to endure their trial by wood.  Bernie, who was supposed to be along side his Woodchuck brethren chewing and choking on wood took in a few glares from the crowd but held steadfast on the edge of the circle.
     The chirping, cheering, and whistling intensified with each passing minute and still Bernie didn't move.  The pile of wood was getting smaller and the contestants were looking more and more sickly as they continued their workings.   As it turns out eating wood takes a bit more energy than eating nuts, leaves, grass, or small insects and along with getting ill, they were also getting tired.  Finally with Bernie holding to his position, Elmer sounded the final whistle bringing a quick silence to the crowd except for Woolary who was still squared off to Maddy in the crowd engrossed in mid-conversation.   The contestants stopped eating the wood and turned towards Elmer.   Maddy elbowed Woolary as the entire burrow centered its attention on Elmer.
    “Ladies and gentle chucks,”  He began.  “ Today we...”
    Just then Bernie produced a bushel of various branches from behind his back and flung them towards the ill-faced, and bloated contestants.   “Begin round two!” he shouted.
    Betsy’s brother Carl, who had probably eaten the most of the wood and who's cheeks were profoundly rounded and was already swaying began to regurgitate.  A collective “Eoowh!” came over the crowd as Carl doubled over too, in front of all.  Lanny and Danny were next as they also gagged and hacked up a rather large pile of soggy wood chips.  Finally Dimitry Woodchuck, as if on cue got sick all over Lanny’s tail.   Bernie's sense of timing couldn't have been better:
    “Well I guess that settles it.” he exclaimed in a statesman-like voice.”  Bernie turned around to face Elmer and the rest of the Woodchuckery.
    “Settles what young Bernie Woodchuck?” asked Elmer as the crowd hushed and leaned-in.   
    “It settles the question.” Bernie responded to Elmer in deadpan.  By now the occupants of the entire burrow were hanging on Bernie's every word including the four sickly Woodchuck contestants.
   “ To which question are you referring ?” Elmer asked, now clearly irritated.  Bernie pulled the trigger.
  “How much wood could a Woodchuck chuck, if a Woodchuck could chuck wood. That question.”  You could hear a pin drop in the great burrow.
     “You see Elmer,  we Woodchucks don't chuck wood very well at all, it's quite tough and tastes awful and as a matter of fact we all despise the stuff, but as you can see here today we are quite good at upchucking it.”  Woolary cackled out-loud prompting another sharp elbow from Maddy, but mostly the crowd moaned and groaned at the general distastefulness of the scene that had unraveled in front for-all-to-see.  Nothing else profound was said by anyone that night and slowly the crowd, turning away, dispersed up and out of the great burrow and eventually back to their own.
     Although the Woodchuck festival continued after that, (mainly because Woodchucks are staunchly traditional animals) that was the last year of the wood eating contest.  The next Spring Bernie was instrumental in organizing the Woodchuck festival's first annual nut eating contest. It would become the one and only event of the Woodchuck festival and it was wildly popular. Bernie insisted that the contest be open to all Woodchucks on a volunteer basis only. Males, females, young and even the elders were encouraged to compete. After that it was generally agreed upon that Bernie would probably grow up to be a wise Woodchuck elder.
     “That Bernie Woodchuck will probably grow up to be a wise Woodchuck elder.”  Said Betsy and after several quiet minutes Louisa weighed-in too. “Yes Betsy, I do believe you are right Bernie is very wise.”