Moments before I rode my first mechanical bull ever, I proclaimed to my fellow gawkers, “You know this is a bad idea.” And then signed my life away, rode a bull and laughed ’till the cows came home. To recover from the belly-aching laughter (and humiliation) we drank light beer out of plastic pig mugs, danced in the field to fiddles and horns and got dirty. One could say it was just another day in the sticks, but this one just happen to be at the Hudson Valley Rib Fest. And we may have signed up for more information about the Rotary. Sigh.