Ok, so, I have indulged in the ritualistic feastings of yet another Thanksgiving (last year, admittedly, Alice and I did, in fact, eat our Thanksgiving at Golden Corral, which bears no shortage of holiday edibles, I confess), and in the throes of my stuffdom from overindulgence in turkey and potatoes, I was suddenly possessed with an odd, and rather ridiculous question: What idiot would ever truly wish to be an Oscar Meyer Weiner?
It took me to the age of 37 to ask this question, and now I am perplexed beyond hope of recovery. I mean, I remember the Genie joke regarding wishing to be an Oscar Meyer wiener, and I had my share of laughs over it. I even recall commenting on how stupid one would have to be in order to be so careless, and reckless, with a solitary remaining wish. You can’t just toss the word, ‘wish,’ around when you have a real wish on the line! But never, not once, in the whole of my existence, has the absurdity of this jingle ever hit me square in the jaw (or inflated belly as the case was) as it did today.
Let’s just ponder this for a moment. If it is true that, to be an Oscar Meyer Weiner, you would suddenly find that the world is, “in love with me,” then you have to ask what part of you they would be in love with? The part going in, or the part going out? Either way, you will be eaten, that much is assured. There’s little chance that someone looks at you, in your hot doggity essence, and says, “My, I do so love that Oscar Meyer wiener! And to prove my love, I shall refrain from eating and digesting it, and instead, take it home and place it on a shelf where I will admire it daily!”
No…you’re gonna be eaten. That’s it. You wished to be something that someone, without question, absolutely wants to eat. QUA?
I can prove it. Take these numbers, and love them like the hot dog they represent!
From the wonderful researchers at Hungry Monster we find that 20 billion hot dogs were purchased in 2001 (I must believe that this number, like inflation of the dollar, has to be adjusted to accomodate dietary changes, and the ever-present growth of hot dog affection), 150 million of which were consumed on July 4th alone! That’s almost 1 hot dog for every 2 people in America, and could stretch from D.C to L.A five times over! 7 billion hot dogs were purchased between Memorial Day and Labor Day. That’s almost half the yearly total in just over a quarter of the year!
On a wonderful site, aptly named hotdogbook.com, you can see the evidence of hot dog mania in action. In 1983, for instance, a record-setting hot dog of 1,983 feet was made in Zeeland, Wisconsin, for no better reason that love as much of a hot dog as possible, I can only imagine. Never let it be said that size doesn’t matter! The top dog most often purchased is the six incher, beating out the less popular 7 incher by a 2 to 1 margin! 450 hot dogs are eaten in America every second! 900 hot dogs were eaten while I typed that sentence!
And the folks of Chicago and L.A need to step up their game if they’re going to beat out New York City. That freakin’ city lives on Hot Dogs! For fun trivia, you can check out this site.
So…hot dogs. Yeah. Not saying I’m about to wish to be one, or anything, but I am hungry all of a sudden.