Seventeen years I’ve been living in Wallowa County and I’m still struggling with the main form of social interaction out here — potlucks, man. I can now confidently declare that Wallowa County has too many potlucks. Yeah, I said it. It’s a nice problem to have, sure, but if we’re honest we can all admit this is Potluck Country for sure and there’s lots of them.

Check this out. Couple of weeks ago I show up for — surprise! — a potluck on the beach at Wallowa Lake. I walk up, see friendly faces, plop my food on the picnic table and start visiting. Standard stuff. Twenty minutes later I’m asked, nicely, what I’m doing there.

“Good to see you and all, Jon, but, uh, you don’t play soccer, soooo … what brings you to the end-of-season soccer team potluck?”

Well, cuss. It had occurred to me that I’d seen neither hide nor humphrey of Ann Humphrey, who I got the invitation from. I figured she was off doing something. Turns out that something was hosting her potluck 20 yards away, just down the beach. As you approached this hive of potlucks an optical illusion made it appear as one single affair. And so we have reached peak potluck.

I wasn’t the only one. Mary B Fort and Judy Wandschneider also got in the tractor beam of the soccer potluck before peeling out of that orbit and landing at the proper picnic table. The real problem for me, upon realizing I was in “enemy” territory, was that I’d already put my food down in the wrong camp. Can you remove a potluck dish gracefully once you’ve set it down? No. I decided no. We need instant replay and umpires for this kind of situation: “Holding, on the soccer team. Twenty-yard penalty for putting their potluck 20 yards in front of Ann Humphrey’s potluck. Food will be spotted at Ann Humphrey’s potluck and soccer people have to put back Jon’s food that they took. First down.”

The other problem was that, for once, I’d managed to bring popular food that was getting eaten fast. The soccer table was groaning with quinoa and kale and superfoods that make you run fast to kick balls. I’d been running late and didn’t have time to make something nobody would like, so instead I stopped at R&R and brought onion rings, waffle fries and deep fried green beans. Fry sauce. Extra ketchup. The whole shebang. The soccer family young ones were enjoying the deep-fried goodness and by the time a sympathizer at the potluck I was supposed to be at intervened and marched over to transition my food to the intended table — I couldn’t face it myself — it was too late. There were like three green beans left. So, apologies to the soccer folks for crashing your fiesta and further apologies to Ann Humphrey for only bringing three green beans to your fiesta. Potlucks, man.

While we’re on the topic of Potluck Awareness Month, here are a few Potluck Exit Poll results for potluck dishes entered into competition this season. Tootsie Pops were a surprising dud. Mike Midlo came up with this idea. I was drawing a blank on what to bring to the 148th potluck of the summer and Mike pointed to the pallet of Tootsie Pops for sale at the Dollar Stretcher. Brilliant, I thought. I’ll just bring a bowl of Tootsie Pops to every potluck for the rest of the summer. Nope. Did not go over. I will never understand that.

My 2016 People’s Choice Potluck Award goes to the homemade rolls at a recent birthday potluck. These lightly-browned lumps from heaven were designed to go with grilled sausages and bodacious sauerkraut, but sakes alive those rolls pulled their weight all by their fluffy selves. So good.

There you have it. Make double sure you’re at the right potluck. Forget about bringing Tootsie Pops and learn to bake outstanding rolls. This has been a public service announcement from The Wallowa County Potluck Advisory Board.

Jon Rombach is a local columnist for the Chieftain.