Reason to celebrate
Judging from the obvious evidence, the human animal will
readily accept almost any cause for celebration. There is something
in our basic composition that makes us want to break out in exuberance.
And, apparently, the more outrageous the instigation for our celebrations
might be, the better.
As important as the celebration of religious holidays such as Christmas
or Easter, or secular occasions like Independence Day might be, we seem
to reserve a special level of emotional intoxication (and sometimes
physical intoxication as well) for celebrations of the unusual, sometimes
even the unique. Although our local Grand Prairie Rice Festival is a
relatively mild celebration, it still plays a vital role in keeping
a small community vibrant. The same can be said of the Luminary Festival
and I would encourage all area residents to participate, especially
since it has now become a way to help the cause of cancer research through
donations to the American Cancer Society with the purchase of commemorative
luminaries.
But as a long-time fan of all things out of the ordinary, I have a special
place in my heart for celebrations which fit that description. Take
the Wings Over the Prairie Festival and World Championship Duck Calling
Championship hosted by our neighbor to the south, Stuttgart, for example.
What started out as a serious, or semi-serious, competition among practitioners
of a curious sporting activity, namely duck calling, has turned into
a commercialized media event wherein far more attention is paid now
than in the festival’s early years to things like production values
and merchandising possibilities.
At first, the fellow (there were no female participants back then) who
won the contest got a hunting jacket as his prize. Today, the champion
receives thousands of dollars worth of merchandise, including boats,
shotguns, a custom designed diamond ring, even a dog or two.
The festival’s Duck Gumbo Cook-off has been listed by a popular
men’s magazine as one of the top ten parties in America. As such,
the level of exuberance sometimes exceeds that deemed acceptable by
those in law enforcement. I sometimes wonder if Rev. Adam Buerkle, the
founder of Stuttgart and a rather straight laced Lutheran minister,
ever envisioned such goings on in the little town he named after his
hometown in Germany.
A few years ago, when I was working for the newspaper in Stuttgart,
I was surprised and somewhat revolted to walk into the newsroom one
day during the festival, and hear the radio playing at above normal
volume as the local radio station broadcast the duck calling competition
live.
Now, a live broadcast of a football, basketball or baseball game is
one thing, but a duck calling contest? The “play-by-play”
for lack of a better term, went something like this:
Contestant number 41, contestant four one. Quack Quack Quack Quack QUACK
QUACK QUACK gargle, gargle, gargle. QUACK QUACK QUACK. Thank you. Contestant
number 42, contestant four two. Quack Quack Quack, et cetera.”
This went one for something like four hours. And this was only one division
of the competition.
By the time the torment ended, I had developed a serious hatred for
anything that even looked like a duck. Duck callers also had moved up
quite a bit on my list of things that need to be exterminated.
My feelings have softened a bit since then, although I still have no
desire to attend the duck calling competition in person. Yet, I must
admit, the sort of devotion this curious activity elicits from its practitioners
must mean something. Even if I am at a loss to say what.