Wanted: A full-time wiener peeler

Toronto Sun ^ | February 26, 2011 | Mike Strobel

[Squawk 8888]

I’m not the wiener peeler, I’m the wiener peeler’s son, And I’m only peeling wieners, ‘Til the wiener peeler comes.

I apologize to pheasant pluckers’ sons everywhere for stealing their tongue-twister.

But who can resist when my Internet fairy, Irene, drops this job ad on my desk? “Get out your resume,” she purrs.

I pause in processing Moonlight Lady submissions, and take a boo.

“Full-time Wiener Peeler,” says the ad.

Wazzat? I ask. A red-hot stripper?

“No. As in weenie. It’s got you written all over it, ” says Irene, and she flutters off.

Well, I’m getting sick of grinding out daily columns like hamburger. So I read on.

“Opportunity. Excitement. Teamwork. Respect.

“At Maple Leaf Foods we are committed to attracting, rewarding and retaining talented people who are passionate about making a positive impact in their professional and personal lives every day.”

A noble mission. What better way to pursue it than as a bona fide full-time professional wiener peeler. The opening is at Maple Leafs’ hotdog plant in Hamilton.

Imagine the awe when you tell fellow partiers your occupation.

Picture the lineup of schools recruiting for career days.

The teachers may giggle, but the kids will scream for free samples.

You’re on Price Is Right and Drew Carey says, “What d’ya do for a living up in Canada, Mikey?”

I peel wieners, Drew.

“Good for you. Wiener peeler. Hmmm. reminds me, folks, get your pets spayed or neutered.”

Anyway, I check around and find yet another job opening at Maple Leaf. Wiener stuffer. Hit it ...

I’m not the wiener stuffer

I’m the wiener stuffer’s son

I’m only stuffing ...

(Ed. note: Stop that, you hotdogger, or we’ll make you pose for a picture like Gilles Duceppe in the silly hairnet.)

NO! Not that! I’ll do anything, boss.

The photo of Duceppe in a cheese factory was a body blow to the Bloc. He looked like a weenie. Un chien chaud. Un hotdog.

I wonder. How do wiener peelers and stuffers look? All dressed?

I call Linda Smith at Maple Leaf Foods and ask: What company wit came up with those job titles?

“They’re in the union contract,” she says. “They’re really a kind of food-processing operator.”

So machines do the actual stuffing and peeling. Thank God. I can’t imagine sitting there all day, fingers numb, going, “hundred thousand and one weenies, hundred thousand and two weenies, hundred thousand and ...”

The wiener stuffer fills the tubular collagen casings with hot dog sludge. Since you asked, the ooze typically comprises mechanically separated chicken, pork, beef, water, wheat gluten, salt, sodium phosphate, spice, dextrose, corn syrup solids, sodium erythorbate, garlic powder, onion powder, sodium nitrite and smoke.

If you need to ask what mechanically separated chicken is, don’t.

Or go eat a veggie burger.

Once the dogs have been divided and smoked and solidified, the wiener peeler removes the casings.

The stuffer and peeler look like hazmat officials or Apollo astronauts.

They wear blue rubber and plastic head to toe, with hairnet, hardhats and mask. Plus earmuffs. Yes. All those dogs barking.

The hirings, says Smith, are to gear up for summer, when 60% of wieners are sold.

What a great job, eh?

I assume you get to take home any bent, twisted or otherwise defective wieners.

And you’d be in the pantheon of careers with chicken sexer, pet food tester, bounty hunter, odor reader, fortune cookie writer, golf ball diver and newspaper hack.

Plus, you’re wrapped in a soft, warm union. The Brotherhood of Bun Fillers (BBF), or whatever it’s called.

I can picture the negotiations:

“We want a raise, a longer lunch, three weeks holiday, dental coverage and pension improvements.

“But hold the mustard.”

[ThomasThomas]

We should? Why?

[NicknamedBob]

"We should? Why?"

Because, man, it's dangerous!

Darks Fell In The Fax Maxhine

Darks fell in the fax maxhine. It wasn’t his intent.
We’d powered up the unit. There was an accident.
It wasn’t a typical faxxer. We’d made this one ourselves,
With help from a few of our “workers,” and maybe a couple of elves.

It had some unusual wiring, and some parts that were bent in strange ways,
But we cobbled it up in a jiffy, or maybe just several days.
It had a “Russian” look to it, with a robust look and large size,
And if you had to move it around, you’d need a few other guys.

So just as we finished the unit, and were firing it up for a test,
With some mushrooms placed on the sender, that suddenly got compressed,
As Darks tripped over something, and tumbled onto the tray,
I knew in a flash, before even the crash, that this would not be his day.

He assumed the fetal position, as the scanner dissolved his left side,
He would be okay at the other end, but that’s when the silly thing died.
Now half of him dripped in mushrooms, and the other half lay on our tray,
He’d divided himself into separate guys, and each looked around in dismay.

We now had a couple of cyclops, with an arm and a leg for each,
Somehow we needed to join them, with a skill that seemed out of our reach.
I scratched my head as I looked at this, and the Darks were still hopping around,
We would need some good glue, and a lawyer or two, if another way couldn’t be found.

We worked all night on the fax maxhine, and replaced all the fizzled parts,
Then we tuned it up, and tested it, in the hope of no more bad starts.
Darks was asleep on a bunk to one side when morning came up once more,
While out of the opposite corner, we could hear his stereo snore.

So we laid him just so on the scanner, with a few diagnostics emplaced,
We were hoping to pull him out again, with all his divisions erased.
Well he might have twisted a little, for when he stood up again,
A part of him that had measured just six, was now edging up to a ten.

But he said he wasn’t complaining, and he felt just fine for now,
So we saved all the records for just in case, and then we each took a bow,
For we had just weathered a really rough storm, and we all could be proud of our acts,
And then I sat down and I wrote this report, ‘cause I knew that you’d want all the facts.

NicknamedBob . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . January 27, 2006

[ThomasThomas]

Fax Maxhines are cool.

[Tax-chick]

Good morning. It is not yet daytime here.

[Tax-chick]

[Monkey Face]

Up early, you are.
I hope you’re OK.

[Tax-chick]

We’re fine. I had to get Tom to church before six to leave on a Boy Scout campout. Then I was back there at 8:00 to sing for a Spanish retreat, and just made it home.

My mother-in-law broke her hip last night; she’s in the hospital in Myrtle Beach. Her other son lives near her and will, I assume, walk her dog until she can do it. DP will probably go down there for a day late next week.

[Monkey Face]

Sorry to hear about your MIL. I hope she makes a quick and complete recovery.

It sounds like your day has started very busy. I’m sure you will be on the go the rest of the day, with one thing or another.

[Tax-chick]

The kids are eating lunch, and then we’re going to Do Something, hopefully outdoors. I can’t say what the temperature is, because the weather-beeber has gone to zot, but it’s warm. Various mammals are having Sunbeam Time all over the house.

Latest word from Myrtle Beach is that Betty won’t need surgery, and should be out of the hospital in about 5 days. I guess they’ll pin her hip. That’s good news: it means they didn’t find anything else seriously wrong with her. When my distant-uncle Paul, out in Missouri, fell off his ladder, he got to the hospital and they found advanced liver disease. He was dead in less than a week. Dad was out there at the time, and he said, “I expected to take Paul some beer in the hospital, and instead I was a pall-bearer.”

[Monkey Face]

Good news about your MIL. Sad about your distant uncle. Something like that has happened to three of the men in my family. Why do men hesitate to go to the doctor?

I hate to go, but I’m willing to be diagnosed and then will do my part to help heal myself.

Yesterday, the doctor’s office called me and said the medical paperwork was ready for me to pickup. I then send it to the student loan people and they will forgive the balance. Then all I’ll have to do is find an attorney who will sue for the wages that have been garnished since 1998. I’ll need luck on that, for sure.

[Tax-chick]

Uncle Paul was an alcoholic. Nice man, anyway ... he was Mayor of Leonard for a number of years, because everyone liked him. My grandmother wouldn’t vote for him, though, because he was a Democrat.

Well, we’re headed out to see a bird sanctuary, as soon as DP and Ash get back from her Very Important Walk. I’ll keep your financial situation in prayer. Wouldn’t it be great if you got all that money and could buy a nice new-to-you pickup truck!

[Monkey Face]

It would be wonderful to get a new-to-me truck. In fact, if I can win the small claims suit against the guy who broke Miss Daisy, I’ll tuck it aside. I need $2000 for a down payment on a 2000 Toyota pickup, and then make payments of $137 for four years. Or maybe three. But I need something better, though I’ll miss MD.

Have fun at the bird sanctuary.

[ColdOne]

Hello

[sionnsar]

Morning, all. Yawn. T-C was up an hour before I got to sleep. Guess I won’t be moving too fast today, though I do have a few things to do Out.

[Monkey Face]

It’s cold and blustery here, today, and I hate it. But we always have a few days of winter left over that have to be used up before summer gets here.

I was going to clean off the patio today and bring all the stuff indoors; it would have been easier to put it all in MD, but that’s not going to happen. Anyway, it’s too ugly out there for me to work, so I’ll just have to wait and hope the weather clears by Tuesday.

[fanfan]

Good day ladies!

I am down for the weekend helping Mom transition into to living alone. She’s got out of the hospital about a week ago.

[Darksheare]

I have yet to launch myself in such a fashion.
Though I was transmitted in error.

[Monkey Face]

Great for your mom!! WOO-HOO!
Cold and windy here. I hate it. My “Saturday Programs” have been pre-empted for pre-season baseball, so I’ve been relegated to other venues.

So how is your mom doing? Besides being independent, of course?

[Monkey Face]

Everything that has been done to you has been in error. It is your reaction that has set you apart. Including the Washer and Dryer Episode.

[Darksheare]

Yes, the murderous rampaging washer and dryer, we shall never forget!
Sis would like to take a moment to eulegize the attack freezer as well, it fought well but was no match for my sister and her heck powers.