"Real Men Roast Pigs"

Imagine waking at 4 a.m. to find your neighbors unleashing the inferno of Hell in your backyard. But to tell the pig roast story, we need to start on the day before.

We prepped the pig on Friday night in my neighbor Jim's garage. There were no photos of the prep. It was probably better that way. I'll sum it up for you, though. Plastic gloves, a butcher's knife, garbage bags and a garage hose-down. It was grisly work. It didn't help that the pig was smiling at us during the episode.

If you need proof of the traumatizing nature of the pig-prep, check out this picture of my brother-in-law, Chris. He was there. The poor guy may never be the same. (Actually, this was Chris after driving back-and-forth to Medina, Ohio during the party.)

Did I mention that I'm glad my father was not a butcher?

Anyway, we awoke at 3:45 a.m. on Saturday morning to light the piggy pyre. Here's Jim (the Jim in the Jim-Bob) warming up to the dancing flames. That's what 80 lbs. of charcoal looks like three hours before sunrise.

One of my highlights of the pre-dawn roast was the triple-take look on the jogger who saw Jim and I downing two Bud Lights at 6 a.m. Truly priceless!

Anyway, we named the pig "Gary". There was no explanation. We just sort of liked that. Gary tipped the scales at around 80 lbs. and had scary looking eyes. I'm still a little freaked out about it. Here's Gary prior to his introduction to combustible oxygen and carbon.

Here's Gary roughly ten hours later.

Prior to the roast, we feared the kids would be traumatized by the sight of a crispy Wilber, but we were pleasantly surprised by the "train-wreck" mentality of today's youth. The kids were mostly grossed out by the pig, but like a Browns fan during a 4-12 season, they kept coming back to sneak a peek. Here is Henry and his cousins coming to grips with the "circle of life."

The party was not without its moments of difficulty. It poured down rain from 1:30 p.m. until approximately 3:00 p.m. Thankfully, the rain stopped and the tent we constructed on Friday came in huge for us! Here are the revelers under the big top.

And now for the fun in pictures...

There were baseball stars in attendance like Roberto Clemente who, in case you couldn't recognize him, brought along his jersey as a conversation piece. Nice work, Dad!

Here's a picture of me with me in 20 years and an assist from my beautfiul new cousin, Calle Taber. BTW, UB, you nailed the chicken! I owe you one.


And here's lil' Jo-Jo with Mommy.

Behold the wildlife! A herd of beer drinkers.

Kim Hammond helped Josie expand her friends list on MySpace.

Here are the cousins, Candace and Becki, with Dave and Sam.

Another Clemente sighting!

The Hoffman sisters with a tiring Joey.

The neighbors from all directions. A tip of the cap to Mr. Lewis (second from right) for starting his lawnmowing activities at 7:55 a.m. the day after the pig roast. I enjoyed that.

Lauren and Jacob Falcone with Judy.

Another Hoffman family squeeze.

This photo brought to you by the makers of Bounty.

As the night went on, a new correlation came into focus. The more beers one drinks versus the number of pictures taken leads to incredibly bad photo composition and structure. Here's proof that the picture-taking skills began to wane with the passage of time and the consumption of alcoholic beverages. This was apparently an attempt to catch Adriana's table. Sorry, AD.

And of course, my favorite picture of the evening occurred on my way in from the backyard at the evening's end. Henry decided to bed down on the kitchen table bench.

This is how any good party must end.

The pig roast was crafted on a dare and executed like a well-disciplined drill. Work that was actually fun. I hope everyone had as good a time as we had. Jim and I are already planning next year's project.

Oh, and Jim, thanks for agreeing to sit with me in a backyard at 4 a.m. watching smoke, fire and burning pig flesh. The funny stories are too many to count.

We'll see all of you next year in the backyard!