Hot Dogs

When I sat down after work tonight and began to channel-surf, I had no idea I would soon stumble across the strangest televised competition I’d ever seen. Now, I’m aware that people compete at all sorts of odd things around the world. But there are certain things you just never expect to see on television, let alone on a supposedly serious sports network like ESPN. And yet, there it was, a hot dog eating contest, complete with color commentary, and I just couldn’t stop watching.

Eventually it was the sensitive stomach of my pregnant wife that pulled me out of the hypnotic abyss. Just the sight of people woofing down that many hot dogs was enough to make her nauseous. And were it not for my obscene curiousity regarding such things, I probably would’ve been sick too.

Just when I think we should think about cancelling cable to save ourselves some money, I see something like this. I feel all warm and fuzzy just thinking about the fact that people got paid to produce that program. Cameramen, too. And there’s a guy from the Empire of Japan whose claim to fame is that he was once able to eat fifty hot dogs in one sitting. Maybe the human race isn’t doomed after all.

Do you detect a hint of sarcasm? Do you feel my biting wit nipping at your heels? (How was that for a mixed metaphor?)

Oh well, aside from hot dog eating contests being televised for my Thursday night enjoyment I don’t have much to report. It was another busy day at the office, another shitty-ass commute (someone passed out on my train this morning, which caused some idiot to pull the emergency brake when we were about fifty feet from the Mass. General Hospital stop, thus stopping us on the middle of a bridge over the Charles River instead of allowing us to pull into a station where something could be done about the situation), and, well, I lost my train of thought after that parenthetical.

Damn. I hate it when that happens.