The Summer Redneck Games: A Hootin’ Good Time!

by Gadling Staff on

Starting today, Gadling is taking a look at our favorite festivals around the world. From music festivals to cultural showcases to the just plain bizarre, we hope to inspire you to do some festival exploring of your own. Come back each week for our picks or find them all HERE.

Each July, nearly 100,000 visitors descend on East Dublin, Georgia to participate in a one-of-a-kind event known as the Summer Redneck Games. This unique festival is a celebration of “all things Redneck” including special feats of athleticism, a variety of culinary treats and plenty of fun.

The story of the Redneck Games begins in 1996 before the Atlanta Olympics. After outsiders began making fun of “Rednecks” who were hosting the games, a group of volunteers decided to do something about it. Enterprising locals took critics’ remarks as a challenge, organizing their very own “Redneck Games” and agreed to donate the proceeds from the event to charity. In its inaugural year, more than 5,000 visitors showed up. The organizers knew they were on to something. Over the last decade, the Redneck Games have continued to grow, with participation reaching 95,000 rednecks during the annual one-day July extravaganza.

Much like the Olympic games, the Redneck Games hosts a number of challenging athletic events, but with a uniquely Redneck twist. Favorite contests include the Hubcap Hurl, the Bobbin’ for Pigs Feet Fest, Mud Wrestling, and a special contest called Redneck Horseshoes, which uses toilet seats in place of the standard iron game pieces. There’s also plenty of authentic Redneck foods for hungry spectators, including Corn Dogs, Alligator Kebabs and Elephant Ears. You’re also sure hear authentic Redneck slang like “y’all,” “fixin’ to,” “do what?,” and the all-time favorite (as coined by Redneck favorite, Larry the Cable Guy), “Git R’ Done!”

Though the Redneck Games would seem to be a decidedly local affair, it has slowly attracted fans from across the U.S. and around the world. As the event has become more popular, a steady stream of participants from “above the Mason-Dixon line” has joined in the fun, with events taking place as far away as Canada and a range of international media coverage.

There’s many misconceptions about the Games – critics decry the Redneck Games as nothing more than horseplay and drinking beer. But much like the comments the led to the event’s creation, event organizers and supporters have taken the remarks in stride. To its fans, the Redneck Games remain nothing but a silly, great time. Despite the increase in attendance and popularity, it remains much the same pure fun that it has always been.

Want to join in the craziness? Head down to Georgia this July 10th to check it out. Everyone is welcome – even Yankees…

How honest and trusting are New Yorkers?: The unattended fruit stand test

by Jamie Rhein on

How honest are people in New York City? What happens when a vendor leaves his fruit stand unattended for at least thirty minutes after the Macy’s Thanksgiving parade? Gadling knows because Gadling was there.

Not long after watching the last gigantic helium balloon and Santa Claus travel on down 7th Avenue with his hearty “Ho! Ho! Hos from our vantage point on 57th Street across from Carnegie Music Hall, we headed towards Broadway. A fruit stand had our name on it. The smooth skinned ripe mangoes and persimmons called out to us “Buy.” The bananas bought there earlier by this Gadling writer’s husband after he found a spot to park the car had already been eaten.

The vendor, however, was nowhere in sight. Not to the left, not to the right. The only witness to his existence were the rows of fruit–the packages of strawberries and blueberries, the bananas bagged in four to a bunch, the piles of apples, glossy and unblemished in the company of tropical fruits looking as if they had been just picked. A beautiful stand with beautiful prices– the best ever.

But no vendor. “He said he’d be here,” said the Gadling husband, who grabbed a plastic bag to gather some bounty and await the vendor’s return.

A man stopped for two bananas. “How much?” At four for $1, he handed the Gadling husband 50 cents.

“I’m not the vendor,” Gadling husband said, “but, I’ll give him the money when he gets back.”

“How much for the mangoes?” a woman asked holding up two.

“Three dollars.” With the sign clearly marked at $1.50 a piece, the math wasn’t hard. “I’m not the vendor, though,” Gadling husband said. “If you want, I’ll give him the money when he gets back.”

She handed over the three dollars and headed off with her mangoes.

Still no vendor.

Gadling husband decided to go get the car and come back. Hopefully, by that time, so would the vendor. He handed the $3.50 and the bag of fruit to this Gadling writer.

This Gadling writer began to wonder if this was a Candid Camera stunt to see just how honest she was. Would she leave with the money and the bag of fruit or stay around for heaven knows how long? How honest was she anyway?

The vendor was still AWOL. There was a man with his son in a stroller though. “Where’s the vendor?” he asked.

“Don’t know,” said this Gadling writer. “We’ve been here awhile.” Craning her neck to look around the stand and across the street, she added, “I don’t even know what he looks like.”

“He’s a Pakistani or something. He’s here every day. Nice guy. Do you want a banana?” the man asked his son. He didn’t give the banana to his son, though, but continued to wait.

And wait

And wait.

A woman came with her dog to join the man, the son, and this Gadling writer who, along with her daughter, wondered if they would ever be able to leave this fruit stand.

“Where’s the vendor?” asked the woman, picking up a package of strawberries.

“He’s gone somewhere,” said this Gadling writer. “I haven’t seen him.”

“I bet he’s getting change. He does that sometimes.”

The man left with his son saying, “I’ll have to come back.”

“Happy Thanksgiving,” everyone said.

Still no vendor, but no husband either. Where was that car parked anyway?

“Nice dog.”

The woman smiled.

Then, about the time the idea of tucking the money under a bunch of bananas seemed like a brilliant idea, a youngish man–a nice looking youngish man with lush black hair and a wonderful smile came running up.

The vendor.

Yes, there is an escape from this Manhattan street corner.

“My husband sold some fruit for you. Two bananas and two mangoes,” this Gadling writer said. “He’s the big guy who was here before,”

“Thanks, so much,” he said, tucking the money in his jacket pocket.

As this Gadling writer paid him what was owed for the fruit in the bag, he added two bananas into the bounty.

“Happy Thanksgiving,” everyone said about the time this Gadling writer’s husband pulled the car around the corner.

If you ever wonder just how honest people can be in New York City, consider this. Fruit stand vendors, at least this one anyway, can leave a stand unattended to go get change and know that his customers are watching his back.

In the half hour that Gadling waited at this stand, dozens of people passed by and no one looked as if he or she planned to take a swipe at the fruit.

**If you click on the first photo, you’ll see that it’s a video of people passing buy another fruit stand in Manhattan.

If you click on the photo by Ed Yourdon, you’ll find out information about the person behind the hand–a snippet of the life of the fruit vendor in Yourdon’s Manhattan neighborhood.