Recently, while at the supermarket buying a package of hot dogs, I happened to read the term “mechanically separated” written in tiny, bold face letters on the side of the package.
Most readers might disagree with me, but I prefer not to be reminded of the process used to remove hot dog meat from its host animal. I’m old enough to understand that meat grows on bones and its use as a food usually requires an innovative, and often barbaric, means to cause death to the animal. I also understand that the manufacturing of hot dogs is, quite frankly, certainly not a job for the squeamish.
What I don’t understand is why I have to be told by Hot Dog Headquarters that my meat is “mechanically separated.” It sounds like a lawyer’s reason for a divorce rather than a fanciful phrase to describe the acquisition of frankfurter meat… and nothing about hot dogs is supposed to be fancy. A hot dog’s sole purpose is to be smothered in a combined assortment of spicy condiments, enjoyed as a meal with a cold soft drink, and then burped back up as a gas during the early morning hours when the meat-eater is driving to work. “Believe me, there’s nothing
fancy about driving to work
during the early hours of the
morning, trying to sip hot
coffee, while your body is trying
to expel a giant, gaseous cloud
of hot dog fumes.” Believe me, there’s nothing fancy about driving to work during the early hours of the morning, trying to sip hot coffee, while your body is trying to expel a giant, gaseous cloud of hot dog fumes. I should know since I am a meat-eater, and a coffee drinker, who just happens to drive to work at a very early hour of the morning.
So far, my son is the only person I’ve met who enjoys eating hot dogs more than me. He’s currently in training for the top prize at the July 4th, 2025 Nathan’s™ Hot Dog eating championships in Coney Island. I know it’s normally not such a good idea for a child to eat such large amounts of hot dogs during one sitting, but I do encourage my son to eat the hot dog buns for an added nutritional value. So far, at age three, he’s developed a nice “water-dipping” technique as a means to swallow more of the bread. He’s also developed helpful antibodies in his bloodstream that prevent any nitrates or other harmful, artificial preservatives to enter his body. This will only increase his chances of bringing home the trophy safely in 2025 and assure him of an iconic status within the history of the competitive eating circuit.
Art by Eric Sengelen
Being the father of a son who is in training for such a contest is not easy. One day, while shopping at the local supermarket, I spotted a hot dog box labeled with an “Artificial Meat” sticker. The hot dogs were being promoted as “on sale” and, since I had a coupon for the particular brand name, I bought two boxes. The “Artificial Meat” sticker didn’t scare me as a father because I know the stomachs of both my kids are capable of digesting piano wire. My youngest has already eaten a variety of non-traditional foods such as Matchbox™ wheels, purple Play-Dough™, and a miniature Bob the Builder™ ‘moveable-action’ figure. Not to be outdone by the competition, my oldest son has responded by somehow successfully swallowing, and thankfully “passing,” a good-sized, rectangular, red plastic Lego.™
It’s hard for any parent to keep track of where children are located, never mind being able to monitor everything that goes into their mouths. My youngest has been sucking on the metal door of a Tonka™ truck for months now and, evidently, all the evidence points to the fact that the little risk-taker was probably enjoying the tingly taste of bargain-bottom, Chinese lead paint. After hearing about this modern day, toy scandal on television news reports, my wife rented a Geiger counter for her peace of mind and now the family is at ease knowing that my toy chest in the living room contains enough heavy metals to fertilize a medium-sized vegetable garden on Three Mile Island.
I keep telling my oldest son that drinking soda is bad for him, but, considering the alternatives, I think a small glass of Coca-Cola® may now be the most nutritional product on the market. I plan on keeping my radioactive, toy truck for my kids to suckle since it does keep them from crying and, after all, there might be a competitive eating contest, one day, for eating the most Chinese lead paint chips.
As a parent, all I can do is prepare my children for living in the world we all live in, even if the world itself does seem to be a little “mechanically separated.” And speaking of being separated… can somebody please finally tell me why there are ten hot dogs in a package but only eight buns in a bag? Enjoy, and Happy New Year.
