This past Wednesday M and I took off to the beach. We ended up on Pea Island, which is not at all in the shape of a pea. It was nearly deserted - was pretty much like having a private beach to ourselves. I was bored. We packed up and went over to Nag's Head, where there were more people to watch and make up stories about in my head. Of note, there were a few younger couples who took their open beers out into the ocean, holding them up as the waves hit them. Salty ocean water beer? Doesn't sound appealing. I don't like beer at all, much less salty ocean water contaminated beer.
M tried and failed to get me to venture out more than 3 feet into the ocean. I shall not go out into the ocean any length that is longer than my body unless and until some sort of safety device such as a life jacket is attached to my person. Maybe not even then. I'm scared of everything, but this fear is amplified by an Event that took place last summer wherein I was sucked into the very bowels of the ocean by a massive wave, only to come to shore gagging and coughing and snorting after literally seeing light from under water and willing myself toward it. So, no. No waves for me, thank you.
On the way over to the beach, it should also be duly noted that I had a Revelation. I shall speak of it now. Over the years, man has seen much progress. In general, when we make progress, we tend to go along with that progress - well, at least those of us that are not attached to a religious group that is scared of it and thinks it the work of the Devil go along with it. To wit, I question modern man's tactic of making bonafide, enjoyable progress an option for us to select and participate in on a buffet basis. I'm talking about something in particular that is of major convenience and so obviously not of the Devil as to possibly be thought of as very nearly perhaps brought down by God him/herself.
I submit to you the bun-length weenie.
Now that we have developed the bun-length weenie, why is there any other weenie on the market? WHO, tell me WHO wants two soft lumps of bread left over after eating their hot dog? Please tell me who. Yes, we have pets, and it's lovely to be able to give them leftovers, and perhaps the makers of the continuing "regular" weenies have a case in that regard, but, please, regular weenies are completely out of date at this point. They are laughable and ridiculous in the face of bun-length weenies and, really, to keep them going is an affront not only to progress but to the regular weenie's memory. Maybe we could bring them back on a bicentennial basis to celebrate the good ol' days, but, other than that, I think we should be through with them. It's only fair to the future. Retire the regular weenie. It is the only way to honor the weenie in general, both regular size and long weenies alike.