First weekend in July -- must be Bean 'n Bacon Days

Ah, the joys of summer in Wisconsin. Every weekend, Memorial Day to Labor Day, there is a party going on somewhere in a small hamlet near you. If you sit down with a Wisconsin Trails Magazine, you can plot a non-stop beer drinking binge, with only Monday through Wednesday to dry out.

This particular week is Bean and Bacon Days in Augusta! I forego a lot of the festivities. Truth is, I went down primarily for lunch of charcoal broiled chicken, buttered white bread and a big scoop of Augusta's famous baked beans.

The cooks have outdone themsleves. I get a quarter chicken, white meat, please, and it is not burned at all, just succulently brown. I scarf down the beans and wonder how many households will be dangerous to live in tonight.

I miss the antique tractor and collectable car competition. But wait. I went down for the parade on Sunday afternoon and I didn't miss any of the tractors or collectable cars ..they were each a separate entity in the parade, making the entire event last from 1:30P.M. until 3P.M..

One would think that is one hell of a parade for a town the size of Augusta. don't be too impressed. There was only one marching band, the hometown marching band of the Augusta Beavers.

There were a few floats sprinkled with choreographed waving royalty of other small town festivals, the obligatory ZOR shrine units (The ZOR "Tin Lizzies" doing their intertwining moves up and down the street, and the "Oriental Shrine" replete with Shriners wearing Arab headdresses and playing snake charmer music, leaving me scratching my head as to why they called themselves Oriental).

Nonetheless, it was fun for the first 45 minutes or so, watching the small children scurrying about the sides of the main drag, scooping up tootsie rolls and enough hard candy to keep area dentists in business until next year's parade.

There even came a point when a local cheesemaker rolled by and pelted the adults in the face with small bags of cheese curds!

Now that screams WISCONSIN, eh?

Because I am dumber than a rock, I chose this day to purchase a pair of cargo shorts and take my place along the thoroughfare on a folding chair in the sun. By three o'clock the tops of my knees looked like smoked hamhocks and you had better believe that today I am walking even more gingerly than usual.

Just call me the clodhopping shitkicker.