It seems as if every town in the good ol’ U.S.A. has some sort of festival. I’ve been to a number of them.
In Conway, Ark., where I lived and worked for several years, there was Toad Suck Daze, named after a rural area on the banks of the Arkansas River where, legend has it, people would go to suck on bottles of booze “until they swelled up like toads.” The festival has nothing to do with Toad Suck — the closest it comes to the name itself are the toad races — but the name itself has drawn national attention to the festival.
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