Hot dog water everywhere …
I think of my body as a house built in 1949: things creak; the foundation sags a bit. The plumbing leaks occasionally. Like any homeowner, I try to practice preventive maintenance. But you fix one problem, another crops up. Diabetic? Take a pill to lower your blood sugar levels. High blood pressure? Take a pill or two to keep it in check. Neuropathy? Take a pill to dull nerve pain – possible side effects: blurred vision; dizziness; joint pain.
Too fat? Lose 20 pounds. At annual physical, doc says, “Great! You might be able to come off blood pressure medicine.” Next day, doc calls to say your cholesterol levels are too high, even though when they were higher three years ago, they were not too high. “The AMA changed guidelines,” he explains. “Take a pill.” Side effects: weight gain; might raise blood sugar levels. It’s the Circle of Strife, Simba! What to do?
Drink Hot Dog Water!
When I used to eat hot dogs, I liked them boiled. Never once did I save the water I boiled them in, thinking it a useless, fat-laden liquid best suited for clogging drains, not arteries. I was not forward-thinking enough. Douglas Evans was.
During an appearance at Vancouver’s Car Free Day Festival June 16-17, Evans – a performance artist and entrepreneur – hawked small tubes containing a single mini-hot dog and “unfiltered” water. For $38 each. His booth also sold Hot Dog Water lip balm, breath spray and body fragrance. (Vancouverites, if you bought the products, also avoid kennels, veterinarians’ offices and dog racing tracks.)
A sign at Evans’ table called his product “keto-compatible, gluten-free, rich in sodium, and shown to increase vitality and brain function.” The fine print at the bottom was meant to bring things into focus for prospective buyers: “Hot Dog Water in its absurdity hopes to encourage critical thinking related to product marketing and the significant role it can play in our purchasing choices.”
Speaking to “Global News,” Evans said he created his modern snake oil as “a commentary on product marketing, and especially … health-quackery product marketing.” But, like most of us who click “Agree” instead of reading lengthy service contracts from cable and cellphone companies, some festivalgoers obviously failed to read the fine print. By the end of the festival, Evans had sold 60 gallons of his wiener water. Which set me to thinking.
Have you noticed the rise of “artisanal” food products? Handmade, small-batch foodstuffs such as cheese, jam and jelly, bread, oil and vinegar abound at premium prices. Some bars and restaurants now offer “artisanal ice cubes” – said to improve the taste of your drink – at $5 each. When it comes to such offerings, I take the advice of the late chef and TV star Anthony Bourdain, who urged us to avoid anything offered as artisanal and even condemned brunch as a “horrible, cynical way of unloading leftovers and charging three times as much as you ordinarily charge for breakfast.”
The ancient Romans had it right: Caveat emptor.
Some years ago a friend tried to talk me into buying a blender-like thingy that swirled tapwater around a magnet. He claimed drinking it made him stronger. I resisted his pitch. A week later, helping me move to a new apartment, his arms shook so violently while attempting to lift one end of a plywood desk I had to stick him to the refrigerator to rest.
I did, however, buy “magnetic” sports underwear a few years ago, hoping it would ease my aching hips. Other than having my pants slide down more easily, I noticed no benefit. But some people swear by magnets. OK.
I admire their stick-to-it-iveness.