Goats are fairly prominent in my part of the world. Otha Turner, a now deceased but enormously popular musician in Mississippi, used to have an annual goat barbecue and music festival. The town closest to me held their International Goat Days festival and while a good part of it rained out, folks had a good time celebrating their local culture. Southerners in rural areas have a tendency to embrace their inner redneck and turn a derisive stereotype into something have fun with.
You can either join it or turn your nose up, I don't break bread with some of the negative aspects of it, but in a time when local cultures are become increasingly homogenized, it is always a delight to witness indulgence in just being different.
There was some old time Blue Grass. I was raised in a "folkie" household so I have an affection for Blue Grass, although there are an awful lot of songs about drowning in the river in that genre.
People took the opportunity to indulge their country fashions...
There was stuff for the kids to do. My Momma always told me not to stick my head inside plastic but I guess times have changed.
The young folk also got a chance to try out their driving skills in this awesome mini car. In rural areas, half the kids are driving daddy's truck by age twelve anyway.
You can purchase goats at the festival and a few people just brought along their pet goats to show off and hang out with. Like those teeth?
However, the main event of the afternoon were the "goat races." The goats are hitched to chariots a la Ben Hur, and they race around a small track buffeted by hay bales. There was a junior and senior event, for which there was prize money. I did see some money changing hands in the pre-race build up, Southerners will bet on anything: who has the largest frog in their garden, four wheeling races you name it. Goats are also a bit unpredictable. Some of them went in every direction, some kind of meandered, some actually raced.
Here is the tense starting line before one of the senior heats.
During the first heat, all of the goats decided to spontaneously head butt the hay bales at the same time, so there was a bit of a traffic jam.
There was plenty of action in the heats and the final.
Post race this goat looked a little contemplative. Of course, he could have just been staring off into space.
During the last race some heavy rain started to fall, and there was a rush to grab the goats and head for dry ground.
We aren't the most sophisticated bunch folks in rural Tennessee, but we can make a good time with whatever is at hand. I had a ball taking the pictures, thanks for looking.