My friend, Margie Van Ginhoven, had arranged a Community Day in Fremont Center, and I was lucky enough to be in the country that weekend. When I heard what the main event was however, I began to make excuses to her as to why I might not be able to attend.
Someone out West had come up with the unique idea of drying out cow flops and then having a contest to see who could fling the cow manure the farthest. Margie had adopted the idea.
In New Jersey, we use frisbees for that, but I guess that shows a lack of imagination. Margie wasn’t about to give up on me. “Don’t worry, they no longer smell, and we provide white gloves so your hands don’t get dirty—and besides, Debra Winger might be there.”
Fremont Center had a year-round population of 42, and Debra Winger was one of them. She might be a Winger, I thought, but I doubted if she’d be winging any cow chips.
Margie started describing the process required to obtain those prize chips. In August when the rainy season was over, she started collecting the cow flops that were already partly dried out. She got some guys from a lumber mill to help collect them. My respect for Margie’s salesmanship was increasing by the minute.
Then she put them on a rack in her yard to dry out further. (The chips, not the men). If it rained she had to move the rack into the barn. Can you imagine being on the phone with someone when it started to rain? What did she say? It’s not like, “It’s starting to rain so I have to get the wash off the line.”
I did wind up going to the Community Day, and I heard that Debra Winger had been there. I don’t know whether Debra did or not, but I even hurled a few, but they didn’t go far. I was a total flop.