I've been editor for just two weeks here at the Smithville Review and I’m already amassing records that may never be broken.

That’s right, I ate nine hot dogs during Customer Appreciation Day this past week. I’m sure that has to be some kind of company record and likely a violation of the wellness policy at the same time as I see no scenario where ingesting that much processed meat in one sitting could be healthy. Actually, after a short Google of the question I found that hot dogs are often high in sodium (not good for my high blood pressure) plus they are packed with fat and nitrites.

I didn’t wake up planning to down that much pig, cow or whatever they were made of. I was simply chosen to be the chef, something I immediately agreed to since I’m a bit of a grill master when it comes to the barbecue. I even brought my own grilling tools and a red, white and blue apron, ready to put on the dog, so to speak.

However, much to my chagrin, the day wasn’t exactly designed for grilling. When I topped the hill coming into Smithville that morning, it looked like the end of the world with foreboding clouds suggesting a massive storm was heading our way. I think I even passed an old bearded man herding animals two-by-two into an ark near Whorton Springs.

But, the show must go on so I went to prepare the grill before customers began to arrive. I say grill loosely as it was something like my dad used when I was a kid. Don’t worry, the grill was squeaky clean but as far as stability, well, it could have collapsed at any time and the chances of the lid closing fully were slim to none. Along with the grill, the weather began letting loose, leaving me looking at my watch, knowing hungry customers were coming, expecting a hot dog lunch. And, let me just point out, my pride as a BBQ chef would not allow me to serve our customers microwaved hot dogs.

Thankfully the skies parted like the Red Sea just in time. I immediately poured in the charcoal and tried to light the fire. The self-starting charcoal, well, it wasn’t self-starting, prompting me to hustle to the store to get some starter fluid.

With the grill finally going, I began shuffling hot dogs on the grill. That’s when the record-setting hot-dog consumption began. If one rolled off the grill, well, five-second rule. Don’t worry, I’m the one who ate it after a good brush off. Or, if the dog was a little too black, well, I wasn’t going to serve it to the customers and I wasn’t going to waste it so, down the hatch.

In the end I ate nine dogs of the umpteen number I grilled, not counting the sampling of side dishes I had. Surprisingly, I had no guttural issues but I did smell like hot dogs for the next two days. That scent is hard to get rid of even with Lifebuoy.

Contact Duane Sherrill at          
news@smithvillereview.com