Hot Dogs Are Gross and Baseball is a Waste of Time

For the past few posts it seems I’ve set out to slay the sacred cows (so to speak) of American culture (and/or counter-culture). First I challenged the cow-haters—those radical anarchists who seek to extract revenge for environmental abuses by attacking the most nonthreatening (and least intentionally culpable) of all the culprits—the cows themselves. Next, I set out to re-revise revisionist history by reminding readers that all people are relative newcomers to this hemisphere and, by their very membership in the human race, destructive by nature.

Now, just to show I’m not in this for any kind of popularity or personal gain, I’m going to end this trilogy by going after two established pillars of standard American society: hot dogs and professional sports. When I say “hot dogs,” I mean the “all-meat” kind, as opposed to the “fake” ones made out of soy or seitan or some other benign, cruelty-free, plant source. “Real” hot dogs were actually an ingenious Yankee invention in response to the question, “What should we do with all the disgusting guts, eyeballs and offal on the slaughterhouse floor” (the proverbial “beaks and peckers,” according to the kid on Billy Bob Thornton’s Sling Blade)? “I know—let’s package it, give it a fun name and market it as food!”

And finally, we come to the most consecrated of American cows: professional spectator sports. Now, I’m all for people getting out and challenging themselves by hiking, skiing, weight training or the like, but sitting around jeering, cussing or cheering at a bunch of overpaid athletes while choking down hot dogs (“real” ones, not those candy-ass, heart-healthy soy dogs) always seemed like a waste of time to me. My question is, why do we need an entire section of every newspaper or ten minutes of the nightly newscast devoted to how the “local” teams did on their rigged little games? I mean really, how are the Seattle Seahawks considered local to fans in, say, Whitefish, Montana, Pocatello, Idaho or Dillingham, Alaska?

If it’s all just for a friendly wager, that’s fine. But otherwise, I just don’t get it.

slingblade

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15 thoughts on “Hot Dogs Are Gross and Baseball is a Waste of Time

  1. I agree! I’ve had the same thoughts even though my dad (Bob Bryar) was a professional radio announcer in the early days of radio for Notre Dame, with Jim Ameche, Don Ameche’s brother and later the voice of the NY Rangers! I grew up with being dragged to baseball games! Now watching one is right up there with having a root canal done, and the root canal is faster!
    As for the hot dogs, well, I have one use for those ‘Dollar Tree’ hot dogs… slipping wolf meds into them so my wolves get their meds when necessary. Especially ivermectin to prevent heart worm. There are so many spices in the hot dogs the wolves can’t taste the meds!
    As for baseball, and speaking of drugs… what poor examples people caught ‘doping’ and ‘blood packing’ or just plain snorting coke with hookers, sets for our young people! And yeah, sports is not news unless you are a bookie or his client!

  2. Reblogged this on Exposing the Big Game and commented:

    I’m reblogging this older post out of protest; out of contempt. I’m reblogging because professional football bores the hell out of me. I’m reblogging because about everyone I know is watching the Seattle Seahawks play whoever it is that they’re playing tonight, instead of talking about—or at least thinking about something important—something that really matters…

    • Not me, Jim! I’m stuck in bed with a respiratory illness, and it’s a three wolf night here in Maine with a wicked windchill. I was just going to lrt the wolfies out for their last pee break then work the wolf blogs until I fall asleep! So you are not alone!

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