We welcome the newcomer with peaches

For years, in the interest of journalism, I participated in a celebrity hot dog eating contest at Curly's Frozen Custard in Fort Worth. Never mind that the "celebrities" were people whose names you might sort of recall hearing on the radio or reading in a newspaper byline but had never felt especially strongly about.

One year, they even had first responders participate (#BackTheBlue!).

The main event was the amateur hot dog eating contest. When the owner started serving Nathan's Famous Hot Dogs, he got Nathan's permission to celebrate with a contest, but to make it different from Coney Island, he had to change the rules. Instead of eating as many hot dogs as you can, the person who eats four quarter-pound hot dogs the fastest was declared the winner.

During COVID, Bourke Harvey explained people frantically spraying bits of hot dog and saliva (mainly saliva) on each other may not have been recommended by experts in infectious disease (Thanks a lot, Fauci).

In #ScaiPod (Also available on Spotify!), Harvey explains he didn't love the idea of restarting the eating contest. This might sound crazy, but he thought a more satisfying way for families to enjoy the holiday would be to eat hot dogs at their own pace.

Saturday, he'll give away 250 free hot dogs (saliva not included). He'll also give away samples of Parker County peach frozen custard.

I drove out to one of the farms he buys from. Sure enough, the member of the Hutton family manning the cash register had the name of Bourke's peach runner on a slip of paper on the counter.

Gary Hutton and I got to talking. He and his brother have owned the farm since 1980, but he says his dad took them there when they were kids.

"We grew up in Fort Worth, and I'd have half the bag eaten by the time we got back to the end of the driveway," he explains.

He says this year's is not an ideal harvest, but they still have plenty, so Harvey's peach guy can still run them across the county line. He gets a lot of people from Houston, the Panhandle, West Texas and Oklahoma stopping by as they drive through Weatherford, but he says they also get newcomers from California and New York.

"It's fun to watch their expression when it's just really ripe right off the tree. Then we see them come back next year."

Our country may feel divided now, but peaches can bring us back together. Hot dogs, too. While Harvey is serving Nathan's Famous at his stand in Fort Worth, the Oscar Mayer Wienermobile has been touring the Metroplex as well.

The hot dog-smiths, Cookout Caroline and Nacho Dog Norah, explained they were not here to start a war. Instead, they explained they sign up for one-year stints driving the Wienermobile. They were part of Class 39.

"We're just hanging out, getting to talk to everyone, meeting lots of cool people," Nacho Dog Norah says. "Neither of us had been to Texas before, so it's really cool to see a new place."

"It is buns of fun, we like to say," Cookout Caroline continues. "We get to see everyone smiling. Everyone always smiles when they see a 27 foot hot dog on wheels."

But just like the media to stir controversy, I asked the two where they come down on hot dog toppings.

"Hot take, but I just like ketchup on mine," Nacho Dog Norah, who, ironically, did not list nacho cheese as a preferred topping, says. "Some people are really against ketchup on hot dogs, but that's just me."

Cookout Caroline says ketchup and mustard can go together, maybe with some relish.

But at the same time, she says this is America. "There's no wrong way to eat a hot dog. You can put whatever you want, enjoy it however you want."

Perhaps we can all draw a lesson from that for America's 250th. Maybe you like ketchup on your hot dog. Maybe you don't like Cincinnati-style chili. It neither picks my pocket nor breaks my leg if you don't enjoy chili with an insoucient hint of cinnamon.

We can still come together as one nation under God. As long as no one tries to put bananas, curry and salty ham on a pizza, of course.