Birthdays with Hot Dog and Mustard

There is not usually much fanfare around my birthday for a couple of reasons. One - It's in the middle of the summer, which seems to create a dog days-related void around celebrating, what with people in and out of town. Two - Birthdays mostly end up being kind of disappointing, something I think we can all relate to. However, I am a Leo, and Leos, according to their astrological qualities, love to be the center of attention. That should mean throwing giant birthday parties every year, along with the desire to have lots of adoring fans present.

This year I indulged in more Leoness than usual, and with Trish, we threw a combo birthday BBQ party for ourselves in Prospect Park.

We grilled burgers, kebabs and hotdogs. We made potato salad and deviled eggs. Our friends brought a huge amount of food and beer and wine. But this was not the main food effect. The food, in fact, was quite overshadowed by our party mascots - the hot dog and mustard.



Trish's costumed friends exhibited huge and brave amounts of Leoness, leaping joyfully through the park grass as children chased them around, tugging at their costumes and posing for pictures snapped by their parents. Children were not mystified by the hot dog and mustard beyond the innocent question of, "Where is the Ketchup?". They were not weirded out, but immediately intrigued. The hot dog and mustard were loved by our party guests, too, as with command and expertise they refereed our field day games - the icing on the Sunday-BBQ-cake in the park. We willingly let the duo direct our relays and sack races and egg-on-a-spoon. They clarifed rules. They told us when to go and stop. They transitioned us between games. They were joyful. They were fun.

So the hot dog and mustard are no longer just a classic American comestible to be thrown on the grill and then gobbled down. They are the life of the party.