An Annual Occurrence

On the first cool nights in late summer the old tribe of mountain giants would dig themselves out of the dirt and come down into town to watch the strippers.

This was an annual occurrence that had been going on since the go-go bars first opened sometime in the 1950s. By the late years of the 20th century the pilgrimage –if in fact you could call it that– of the giants was attracting news media and tourists from all over the country.

The giants would come down off the mountain and plod across the long valley south of town. Sometimes they would come alone or in random groups of five or six; other times, and more and more frequently as their visits took on the quality of a ritual, they would make the trek en masse, upwards of thirty giants, dirty and immense and randy as rabbits, parading right down the main street of the town.

Some of the giants would bring kittens or puppies (and even the occasional lamb or chicken) as offerings to the strippers. It was widely reported that they stole these animals on their way across the valley, where there were ranches spread out for miles between the mountain ranges.

In the early days of their yearly appearance there had been some notable skirmishes between some of the local cowboys and the giants, but these never ended well for the cowboys. Someone, you might recall, made an awful movie on the subject, a film that played pretty loose with the truth. I can happily report that no cowboys were ever actually killed during these dust-ups. They sustained some pretty serious beatings, and egos were no doubt bruised, but they eventually learned to let the giants have their fun.

And they certainly did have their fun, but for the most part, I always heard, they comported themselves like perfect gentlemen with the dancers. There was inevitably some hanky panky, of course, yet even the upshot of that unimaginable business (and I can tell you that it wasn’t just the strippers involved; many of the local gals were smitten with the giants as well) was something of a boon to our little community. You’ll find evidence for that as you’re coming into town, on the prominent sign that documents Prentice’s long run of gridiron dominance: Nineteen state high school football championships and counting.