Cow tippin'

The other day my son asked me, “Dad, is there an urban myth called cow tipping?” I had to stop and think about that. I have known conceptually about cow tipping since I was a teenager. But is it an urban myth? Or does it really happen?

I grew up in a moderately-sized, factory town in Pennsylvania, midway between the cabs of New York city to the east and the dairy farms to the west. I didn’t have a lot of firsthand experience with cows, except for seeing them munching on grass as my family blew by on weekend drives into the country. I did, however, have a pretty strong bias about country folk with their thick necks and lack of anything else to do but mend fences and ride around on tractors. It seemed to make sense to me that teenaged country boys would sneak out after dark, get drunk, flirt with the farmer’s daughter at the ice cream parlor and end the evening tipping a cow or two.

Honestly, I hadn’t given it a lot of thought back then and none since. So, I had to tell my son that I didn’t really know. “Cow tipping seems preposterous,” I told him, “but, you know, just maybe…”

Do you know the answer? Without question or doubt? Think about it for a minute. Think it through. Then go here for the answer and a hilarious discussion on the matter.