Now, being at a country dance club is not the worst fate one can have in life. The worst thing is to allow someone to convince you that the electric bronco bull ride in the corner looks like fun. This happened to Scott, Jon, and I. Jon had had a few too many drinks, I was feeling amiable, and Scott had absolutely no excuse whatsoever. Each of us, however, decided to give the bull a try.

Now, having been born and raised far enough from farms that I consider them tourist attractions, I had never ridden a pony, let alone a bull (electric or not). I've seen one rodeo in my life, and it looked extremely painful. Nevertheless, I waited in line as Jon and Scott took turns getting thrown across the room by a huge machine designed for that very purpose. When my turn came, I grabbed the bull by the . . . handle. Following the hard-earned advice of Jon and Scott, I sat as close to the head of the bull as possible and waved to the attendant to begin the torture.

Now, to be honest, it was a lot more fun than we had imagined it to be. Not that getting thrown by a bull is my idea of a perfect weekend, but it rates higher than a trip to the dentist or traffic court on the scale of fun. Once the bull stopped bucking and the room stopped spinning, I rejoined my buddies, now privileged to have bragging rights, the admiration of women in flannel shirts, and a slightly sore backside. Based on my experience, I think I'll leave the real bulls for the experts.