The blind woodchuck spent most of the last year huddled in a fetal position in her burrow. Save for that one magical day of August 21 when she acquired her new moniker as well as a collection of necessary sunglasses (she swears the weasel told her it was okay to look at the sun), she found the results of November 8, 2016 to be too depressing to even contemplate.
But something told her she should at least check out the world above and see if anything had changed. As she crawled out of her cozy burrow, she could hear birds singing. Not a lot of birds, mind you, but enough to let you know that perhaps the end of the world hadn’t actually happened. The sun was warm on her whiskers as she heard another woodland creature scampering by and she called out to it. “Hey, what happened? Did Trump resign?”
“No such luck,” squeaked the chipmunk. “But the Democrats won two governorships and a bunch of House delegates in Virginia!”
“Is that a big deal?” asked the woodchuck. She didn’t really know anything about the south.
“Well, not according to Fox News,” said the chipmunk, “but I hate foxes so imma have to believe that they are lying. Nate Silver says we can be cautiously optimistic but not to assume we can take over the House in 2018. A lot of us were really happy about how big the win seemed but the press keeps telling us that we shouldn’t get ahead of ourselves. And then they interview white Trump voters to see what they think about it.”
“But that’s the first positive thing that got me out of my burrow all year!” exclaimed the woodchuck. “Everyone must be so happy! I’ll bet Bernie Sanders is thrilled that our candidate won!”
“Bit of a glitch there,” smirked the chipmunk. “Turns out he endorsed the guy who primaried the eventual winner Ralph Northam, and then refused to work for the actual candidate. But Chris Hayes keeps having him on his MSNBC show anyway to speak for all Democrats.”
“But he’s not a democrat!” The woodchuck was confused. “What does Donna Brazille have to say about that? As a former head of the DNC, she must be furious!”
“Rumor has it that Donna was bitten by a rabid racoon and has lost her mind,” replied the chipmunk. “Sad!”
“Oh, dear. This is all so upsetting. Is there anything to be happy about?” The woodchuck could feel her depression enveloping her like a chemical fog unleashed by toxic waste set loose during a hurricane.
“Well, of the fifteen delegate seats that were won in VA, eleven of the winners were woman! And every single person they will replace was an old, white man! Not that I have anything against old white men, but you have to admit that this has not been the best year for them.”
“Why would you say that?” fretted the woodchuck. “You have brothers! Don’t you want to defend them?”
“Well, I would, but Alvin and Theodore are both in prison now for inappropriately touching that porcupine who lives under a log. They tried to bust out with the help of that Pepe LePew guy but got caught. They actually made a movie about it – The Shawskunk Redemption. It will be on Netflicks this month.”
The woodchuck crawled back into her burrow, cheered up because of all the gains made by her sisters. She was still a little sad, though, because she had given up cable and would not be able to watch the movie. She could only get NBC and she hated Chuck Todd.