Tommy Druen: That’s how we’ve always done it

Every August, a man in the small Scottish town of South Queensferry gets covered head to toe in burrs. Yes, burrs, those prickly little nuisances that stick to your socks. Thousands of them. His neighbors weave flowers into the mass, press a decorated staff into each of his hands, and parade him through town for seven miles and nine hours.
He stops at pubs along the way. This is Scotland, after all. Since his face is completely covered, he drinks the free whiskey offered him through a straw.
It