This Ain’t No Bull

big bull

Devoted Spouse and I have been looking for a quick getaway – just a couple of days of rest, relaxation and maybe looking at some local sights within a few hours of home.  Since my disastrous driving (1,000 road  miles) trip recently, I don’t want to be in a car for more than 3 or 4 hours so that severely limits where we can go.  Plus I’m hampered by a physical therapy schedule and, of course, school starts on the 24th of August.  So if we’re to get out of Dodge for a day or three, we need to find something somewhat local.

On our coffee table in the family room sits a small book entitled, “Ohio Road Trips by Neil Zurcher” and it documents day trips and some a bit longer all over the state of Ohio and tells you the hot spots and fun things to do.  There are parks, museums, animal features, strange and odd things such as haunted places, and, naturally, tons of historical goodies.

I started perusing the book and found quite a few places north of us in Amish country that we could easily travel to and back with no problems, providing we could find a place to stay this last minute – Amish country is so full of tourists at this time of year this may turn into simply a day trip.

What truly caught my eye was the number of Ohio festivals mainly during the spring, summer and fall of the year.  One in particular jumped off the page — it takes place in a town in northwest Ohio called Tiro.  It’s named The Tiro Testicle Festival.  Yes, I said the Tiro Testical Festival.

Apparently this is not a large town – just a wide spot on the road with a few businesses but every April thousands of folks come here to join in this festival celebrating bull’s testicles.  Yes, that part of a bull some may know as “mountain oysters” or “prairie oysters” and are touted as a yummy delicacy.  The book tells the story that the owner of the local tavern was given a “box of the delicacies” back in the 1990s.  He fried them up and served them to his customers (I certainly hope he gave them fair warning of what they were about to consume.)  It seemed to be a rousing success and has now turned into an annual event.  Every April almost a half-ton of bull gonads are now cooked and served to the crowds.  This festival doesn’t have a parade (hell, the poor bulls would just limp anyway), nor do they crown a queen (who wants to put on their resume someday the fact they held the Testicle Queen title in 2005?).  So, there isn’t much to do at this festival.  To quote from the book, “We drink beer and eat testicles.”  That’s it.

I have nothing further to add.  I think the above pretty much speaks for itself.  All I can think is darnitall, it’s not April.