My BBQ Team, the Ques Brothers, has been patting ourselves on the backs for the last few days. For freshman contestants, we’ve got a darn good set up. Most teams settle for a big tent. We went whole hog — putting up a tent in the rear AND a two-story scaffold structure in the front, which is a great place to perch for sunsets and people-watching.

What does it say about my team members? That we go to extreme lengths to party? That we like to look down on others?

And what, I wonder, does this booth say about the Adribbers?

This booth (below) by the All-Star Ten Pin Porkers is on the North side of the park. As you can see from the signage, they have won the best booth contest for years. I don’t expect anyone will take that away from them this year. What you can’t see in this photo is that people are dancing in the doorway, presumably part of the decoration. One of the dancers was in a pig costume. What I’d like to know is how the team decides who dons the pig costume. A lottery, perhaps? Rite of passage for the new guy?

Tapster Silky O’ Sullivan’s pork cantina had a hip, Spanish-flavored facade. Were it not for las palabras Ingles on the side of the building, you might even think this picture was taken while on vacation in Espana.

With a name like “Four Drunks and a Smoker,” I was surprised that this team could assemble what you see below. If only there was an award for best miniature golf course.

As I was walking around coming up with snarky things to write about the festival’s architecture, I ran into my dear friend Carmel who was also deep in thought. A few years ago, she burned all her youthful poetry when she realized it wasn’t very good. (I’ve saved every awful verse I’ve ever written, and it’s like a ball and chain, let me tell you.)

She could get rid of her poetry, but she couldn’t get rid of the poet inside of her. The thoughtful Carmel was trying to come up with good names for barbecue teams. “I’ve been playing around with words like ‘boar’ and ’smoke’ and anything that rhymes with ‘cue’,” she said, blushing slightly.

I didn’t tell her that puns should ne’er taint a poet’s thoughts, but given that the festival is a celebration of porky puns, who could blame her?

This morning she e-mailed me a list of brand spankin’ new team names. This girl’s got a future as a headline writer. These are up for grabs, by the way. And do, please, chime in if you’ve got anything better.

Goldpigger
Pig Mamma’s House
Pig Newton
Under the Pig Top
Piggy Pop
200 Pig-A-Bites
Hog Tide
3 Hog Night
Hog Days of Summer
Hot Hogs
London Hog
Hog Your Memory
Swine of the Times
Swine Dining
Swining Room
Swine Lives
Swineland
Fruit of the Swine
Boar Power to You
General Boar
Boar de France
Oinks of Light
Pork in the Road
Knives and Porks
Pork and Mindy
Porking Lot
New Pork City
Ribling Rivalry
Mountain Que
The Que, the Proud, the Marines
Mulligan Que
Que Finder
Que Moon
Practical Smoker