First and foremost, let me get this out of the way, as this has been weighing on me while reading the obituaries and eulogies for Harold Ramis the past few days: Groundhog Day is unequivocally the best film Ramis has written and/or directed. Please spare me the arguments for Caddyshack, Ghostbusters or, dare I say it, Animal House. Having repeatedly watched all those movies, I can attest to their greatness. Comedy classics, no doubt. But Groundhog Day was Ramis’s Symphony No. 9. His Mona Lisa. His sculpture of David. His Waffle Taco. Ok, bad example. But man, if I wouldn’t set myself on fire for a Waffle Taco right now. Think about it. Waffles = Amazing. Sausage and Eggs = Doubly Amazing. Sausage and Eggs wrapped in a folded Waffle = Mind blown. Thanks again Taco Bell. You never cease to amaze.
Anyway, Groundhog Day. If you couldn’t tell by the Waffle Taco metaphor, I believe Groundhog Day to be Harold Ramis’s masterpiece. And yes, I believe “masterpiece” to be the appropriate label. You see, while movies like Caddyshack and Animal House tread at eye level with their humor and wit, they still no doubt are simple in concept: Quotable slap stick comedies that pummel you with hilarious one-liners and visuals that hit way more than they miss. Obviously, they are the work of a man whose comedic eye has few rivals. Nonetheless, I’d still be hard pressed to categorize them as great movies. Groundhog Day, on the other hand, is so much more than what is found on the surface. It’s an examination of the human condition.
The premise is simple. A weatherman lives the same day over and over again, and he’s left to cope with that reality. There’s no promise of rationality in the storyline, nor any explanation to why this man is stuck in this time warp. Still, it’s brilliance is found in the simple question: What would you do under these circumstances?
Ramis tries to answer that, time and time again, while Phil Connors (played by Bill Murray) goes through the motions of his new reality. His familiar encounters begin as confounding and frightening. As the story progresses, Connors starts using this familiarity to his advantage, throwing “caution to the wind” and living each day as there won’t be a next (because there isn’t a next). Over the span of the movie, we eventually see Connors depressed over the finality of his reality, and finally using it as an opportunity for self-betterment.
In the end, while this self-inspection hits many deeper points, Ramis never loses sight of it’s comedic intentions. And, of course, the ridiculousness of it’s premise alone offers no shortage of comedic relief. Still, I’ve always been enamored by the questions Groundhog Day presents (aside of the obvious “will the groundhog see his shadow?”). Having seen the movie a countless amount of times, it’s natural to ask yourself what you’d do if placed in that predicament.
Personally, the notion sounds terrifying, only made comforting if I were able to pick the day I’d have to live over again. Phil Connors, fortunately or unfortunately, didn’t have that benefit. I know for certain I’d rather not relive this past week with Archie, as constipation and teething had become the bane to my boys existence.
I’ve seen Archie in fits of deliriousness over being presumably hungry or tired or just plain being a baby. Those visuals don’t really compare to the anguish of seeing him in pain. And more than anything, the obvious discomfort that he’s feeling as he tries to push out the amount of crap that must be the equivalent to a bag of flour, well that’s just plain difficult to watch. The grunting, the clinched fists, the rock solid stomach… it’s been a rough week for Archibald, and not coincidentally for his sleepless parents.
Fortunately, having sought the assistance of the ever-foul prune juice, it appears Archie is getting some relief. I haven’t been tempted to try for myself this purple garbage, but from the sight of it I’d say the end result appears appropriate. So it is on to the next experience.
I hope it doesn’t make me a bad parent to say that I miss the days where a baby’s bowel movement wasn’t the most exciting part of my day. Sticking to the theme, I know there’s the days where Amy and I use to booze it up or the times we traveled to New York City, Colorado or Michigan that we’d like to relive again. Over and over, even. That’s not to say I’d trade our current situation for anything. But man were those simpler times. I mean, we used to sleep, uninterrupted, for sometimes up to 8 hours! Sometimes I’d even have a couple of beers… wait for it… ON A WEEKNIGHT! I know, I can’t believe it either.
Point is, while Archie is, without question, the greatest thing that’s ever happened to Amy and I, I think any parent would be misrepresenting the experience if they said it’s all Waffle Tacos and Sunshine. I’m here to tell you that it isn’t. And if you’re a parent reading this, you probably didn’t need me to tell you that. Regardless, yesterday was the perfect example of my limited parenting abilities being tested.
In the midst of a day where Archie was in a perpetual bad mood, for reasons I couldn’t figure out, I must confess that come 5 pm I had my eye firmly planted on the clock waiting for Amy to come home and relieve me. Then, after a more peaceful evening, bedtime came.
A child fighting sleep might be my biggest frustration in this new job of mine. While clearly exhausted from a long day of shitting, pissing and rejecting his fathers myriad of silly faces, noises and feeble attempts at playtime, Archie absolutely refused to go to sleep last night. The overnight feeding was a particularly frustrating experience, for after an hour and a half of rocking (Amy and I traded off duties every 20 minutes or so), I had finally lost my cool.
“DAMMIT ARCHIE, WHY WON’T YOU SLEEP?!” That’s right, I swore at my four month old son. I was even way up in his grill when I said it. Just looked him dead in the eye and swore at him. Needless to say, I’m feeling like quite the asshole today, for as much as I thought Archie was being an asshole yesterday, it’s hard looking at pictures of my boy and imagining that I could get to such a level (see below… yeah, I don’t know how I could be frustrated with that face either). Luckily for Archie, a cooler head prevailed as Amy was able to will him to sleep.
It’s not the first time I couldn’t keep it together, and certainly won’t be the last. Still, the frustration with myself is now far greater than the frustration I had with Archie last night. Not exactly a fun trade off. Maybe those kinds of situations will be easier when he starts talking and can tell me what’s keeping him from wanting to go to sleep. Something along the lines of “Hey you big idiot, it’s kinda fucking drafty in my room” would be immensely helpful.
Nonetheless, while I’d say I wouldn’t want to relive a day like yesterday over and over again, it would surely be to my benefit if I did. If Phil Connors tells you anything it’s that you can either sulk in the reality of the situation or use it to your benefit, learn the err of your ways and make the most of it. Surely we have many trying days ahead with our Archibald. Here’s hoping that I learn from them. For now, Archie will have to settle for an apology.
Dear Archie –
I’m really sorry pal. I know going to sleep is no fun sometimes, especially when there’s so many new things to see and do. I mean, the iPad alone is enough to make me want to stay up all night. That thing is pretty cool, right? Wait till I teach you how to play Angry Birds on it. You’ll never want to stop. Just stay off the internet. There’s lots of weird things on there.
So yeah, Dad was kind of a jerk last night. He’s still getting used to this gig. I promise I’m not a bad guy. I mean, just the other day I emptied all my pennies into the “take a penny, leave a penny” jar at 7-Eleven. That was a solid move, right? Still, that’s no excuse for being a big stupid meany face to you. And don’t ever use the word “Dammit.” At least not in front of your Mom. That was just a bad choice of words on my part.
Anyway, I’m excited for the weekend, as we can get some serious chill time together. And hopefully soon we can spend time outside. Yeah, sorry about this weather pal. It’s not always like this, I promise. Uncle Tom Skilling says it should start to warm up fairly soon. Anyway, hope your day with Grandma is going swell. Yes, she’s a goofy lady. We love her anyway.
Please accept my apology. I promise I will do better. I also promise that I won’t force you to watch Groundhog Day with me again. Cool? Best pals forever?
Sincerely,
Your Loving Father
P.S. Maybe we go grab some Waffle Tacos this weekend? It’ll be our little secret.
archibalding. 