ON THE BON SECOUR RIVER – Paul Leonard looked around at the festivities exploding all around him and just grinned.

“This is more fun than two live chickens and a weed eater,” he said.

Going on was the Eighth Annual Greater Magnolia Lawnmower Races which are celebrated yearly on the same day as the Kentucky Derby. The host and hostess, husband and wife Dennis and Theresia Edwards, were the master of ceremonies and made sure all the rules were followed.

“OK, listen up,” Theresia said. “First you start by the potato gun table and chug a beer. Then you have to run over to the slide and go down it. Then you start your lawnmower and take a lap around the course.”

But there’s much more to it than just that.

“It’s just stupid,” Dennis said later. “And fun.”

Lisa McKinney is a regular attendee and readily concurred.

“Every year I don’t think it can get funnier,” she said, “and, yes, it does.”

Lisa was riding side saddle on a pink lawnmower driven by Helen Shivers and Lisa got to do the slide part, all the while trying to keep her short skirt in check and boots on her feet.

After the “racers” come back from the first lap, they were instructed to return to the potato gun table to – what else – chug a beer. And shoot the potato gun. You have to shoot it three times unless you hit something.

Targets were floating just off shore in a small boat in an inlet with dummies dressed as Alabama, Auburn and LSU fans sitting in bag chairs.

Then it was off to frozen turkey bowling. Every team or driver had to let one fly down the lane before taking off for another round. And somewhere in there another beer had to be chugged.

There was a Popeye boat racer, one built and adorned like a crawfish pot, a redneck fire department, one with a shark theme, one like a tank with driver dressed in fatigues and the living room lawnmower.

It’s just want it sound likes, too. It has a couch, picture hanging behind it, lamp on the side and a coffee table across the front of the mower. That was Dennis’ ride for the day.

Even though the festivities take place on the Bon Secour River, it retains the name Magnolia because the first one was at the Edwards’ previous residence on the Magnolia River.

“This started with James Pittman,” Dennis said. “We were neighbors on the Magnolia River and his mower was a piece of crap so he would always come over and borrow my mower to cut his lawn.

“He finally bought a new mower and behind my back he tells my wife, ‘I’m gonna race your husband. Talk him into it because I know I can win the race because my mower’s faster than his. I know because I’ve driven both of them.’”

Well, Dennis was game for the race and wanted to do it the next day, a Saturday, at noon.

“Go ahead and bring your mower over and put it in my driveway,” Dennis told him. “So he did. And he went away.”

Thus setting the tone for the next seven years of racing and revelry.

“I went out there and tied two anchors to the axle of his lawnmower and buried them so he couldn’t see,” Dennis said. “He comes out of his house – this is where it all got started dressing up like an idiot – and he’s got the No. 3 and ketchup and mustard on it and being a slob.

“We take off and he was way ahead of me for the first 10 feet and then his anchors caught and I won. It was like a four-second race.”

The second year had four entrants and the beginning of obstacles.

“The obstacle was to shoot a potato gun, but they didn’t know what a potato gun was,” Dennis said. “You have to take your potato gun and carry it with you the whole race and go around the circle and then shoot your beer cans down. Then you can drink a beer and then you can continue your race.”

The obstacle was made a little tougher for James Pittman.

“It’s easy to do except for James,” Dennis said. “We drove a piece of rebar through all of his beer cans. He shot dead on and his potato splattered but cans were still there. He got mad and took his potato gun up there and started hitting the cans with the potato gun and they still wouldn’t fall. We were on the ground laughing.”

The cool temperatures may have keep the crowd below 100, but Dennis expects it to be bigger and better for ninth edition.

“It’ll be even stupider,” he laughed.