Death By Burger!

What a great 4th of July!  We were lucky enough to head up to New Hampshire this past holiday weekend and do some camping with our neighbors and close friends, Jen and Ed and their kids.  We also met my old buddy Billy, and my "Uncle Joe" up there and had a fantastic time hanging with all of them.  I don't want to say too much about the trip itself, because that will be another blog post. Gotta reserve my stories!  What I do want to talk about now is last night's dinner.  

Road Trip!

Now over the years I believe that anyone who comes to this blog on a regular basis wants to read about the Jackass named Eric Costantino, AKA Wacky Dad.  When I first started my blog it was easy to come up with a Jackass story every day, but as the years go by, it isn't easy to pull a "wacky" stunt every few days for a blog post.  Sometimes I have to write about the mundane.  I appreciate you all sticking through the lean times, but I have a true Costantino moment to write home about this time.

As many of my readers, family, and friends know I am a big eater.  I derive serious happiness from a great dinner and a glass of wine or a beer.  Last night we decided to head out to the Woodstock Inn in Woodstock, NH for dinner.  With kids and all, we had a party of 19 people.  Just a little background on the Woodstock Inn.  We've been going there for an awful long time at this point, and we love the site brewed Ales and Lagers that they showcase.  I went there with the intention of getting a light dinner and 2 or 3 beers.    I almost made it!  I sat down and initially picked out a Chicken Cobb salad and ordered a nice hoppy IPA.  All was well until the waitress lingered for a couple of milliseconds too long.  I re-opened the menu.  That is when I saw this.

Yup, The Double Death By Burger!

I don't know how I missed it the first time, but it definitely had my attention riveted now.  I yelled over to my buddy Ed who was at another table.  "Did you see the Death By Burger?"  He nodded yes.  Long story short we both ended up ordering the thing.  I often underestimate things.  This was one of those times.  I kind of poo-pooed the whole thing.  How bad can it be?  It might be 36 oz of beef, but that's before they cook it.  All manner of bullshit to convince myself that this thing was gonna be a cake walk.  Hell I thought I'd down the thing, score my t-shirt, and walk away with a full tummy and a smiley face.  I just never considered the consequences of what I was doing.  I should know better, Ed had taken me to a place called Luxe Burger for my birthday this past January.  Ed, Myself, and my old buddy Billy plowed through Luxe Burger's challenge, and we all finished it. Admittedly it was very tough, but we all brought home the t-shirt and were able to conquer.

Luxe Burger!

Maybe I was cocky.  I don't know.  I decided to take a walk down to Woodstock's wall of shame where they post the photos of all the other idiots who take on the challenge.  It took my breath away.  The first thing I noticed was the sheer size of the burger.  It was truly MONUMENTAL!  Then I noticed how many folks were on the wall of shame as opposed to the wall of fame.  It wasn't pretty.  There were at least 3 failures to one success.  Oh shit I thought.  What did I get myself into?  I waited with bated breath.  Here is what I got myself into!

That is a full sized plate.  Look at my wife's expression in the background!

It was gigantic.  The bread was extremely heavy, and the burgers were very dense.  This was serious stuff.  I was scared to be honest with you.  I was with 18 of the people that I love most, and I considered the fact that I might fail.  I really didn't think I was going to make it, and I was going to fail in front of all of these people I love.  I know this sounds stupid to all of you.  I hate to lose and I love a challenge.  It doesn't matter what the challenge is.  If I'm in it, I'm in it to win, or to conquer.  In my little mind this burger challenge was no different.  I was going to be pissed if I couldn't get through it.  I started.  I plowed through as fast as I could taking small sips of my drink as I went.  I got through half.  Ed was eating his at the same time.  He was moving along well too, but I could tell he was hurting.  I was too.  I just continued to eat, even after it hurt.  The burger was charred a little, and it started to really make me feel kind of sick after a while.  I kept going.  I had doubts at about 2/3rd's of the way through, but I just said F*&% it and kept going.  Ed threw in the towel, but he didn't have as much at stake here.  I had all of these friends and family watching me.  My daughters were standing over my shoulder cheering me on.  Next thing I knew the WHOLE restaurant was cheering me on!  It really would have been a fun moment if I hadn't felt like yacking on my plate!  I actually finished the damned thing.  I didn't yack it up, and I actually went for a swim after we finished, and didn't sink, or get a cramp!

The T-Shirt Back

What's the moral of the story?  Well there really isn't one.  I'm still an idiot, capable of sincerely idiotic acts.  I'm still "Wacky Dad".  I've still got it!  That's it.  I have reaffirmed my status as one of the premier morons in the dad blogger world, and I'm damned proud of it.  To all of my fellow dad bloggers out there I'd like to throw down the gauntlet.  Head up to the Woodstock Inn and take the challenge.  If you win, you might be able to enter the Wacky Club!

Bon Appetit!


Wacky Dad