“You’ve got to go to Keng’s party. You’ve never seen anything like it.” The invitation was elegant but elusive: a dark blue card with gold foil words, unreadable without the right light. The map was incomplete: a couple of unnamed roads and a riverless bridge. Friends agreed to meet there at 5:30 PM. 7:00 PM came and I couldn’t find them. I phoned my friend. “Where are you?” He replied, “At the party.” I: “Where? I’m by the elephant.” He: “What elephant? I’m by the paintings.” I: “What paintings?” He: “Near the Thai musicians.” I: “I’m watching hula dancers.” He: “What Hula dancers?” I: “What Thai musicians?” We realized we were not at the same party. They were party-crashers. I was party-kosher.

Finally united, we marveled at the offerings: the entire neighboring baan (village) was invited; free everything for everyone; 500 people seated at formal tables on the lawn; 250 gifts for kids; an endless buffet; hula music imported from Hawaii; fireworks on pillars, writing words, filling the sky; a 50-piece marching band; hill tribe pop singers; a small Aladdin with a large, stunning harem of dancers which transformed into various nationalities, finally into scantily-clad elves greeting Santa riding an elephant. (I’m not sure of the dancers’ genders: all were very beautiful but some had very big hands.) Only in Thailand. I can’t remember all that happened, no matter how hard I try…the exact opposite of my home state of North Dakota where parties were so dull I can’t forget them, no matter how hard I try.

Nothing like this has ever been seen in North Dakota and I’m inspired to show Thailand something it’s never seen from North Dakota. The Cow Plop. Someone borrows, rents or steals a cow. A large corral is divided into small squares with white chalk then each plot is numbered and sold. The day of the plop, the cow enters the corral to the delight of spectators holding their numbers and yelling, “C’mon, Bessie! Drop the big one on my square!” When the cow deposits its pie, the holder of that plot wins the pot. Or the plop. It’s basically a cake walk with cow pies. This event can take hours since some cows, though not many, are self-conscious about making their pies. I’ve always hoped it would become the official Dakota lottery with TV coverage and instant replays. “Folks, here’s the winning plop in slow motion. Most of it landed on #103! Ole Svenson wins the grand prize and gets to take the proceeds home to spread on his garden.”

My 2005 New Year’s Resolution: present the first Elephant Plop in Thailand. The money will go to charity, but the winner can keep the proceeds. I’m not sure when or where, but you’re invited. If you happen to have an extra elephant, please let me know.