Majorly English

After vehemently rebuffing my original suggested meeting place, the food court at the mall, I meet Ida outside a local Curves personal fitness center. She is a slight lady, comparable to “the Jaw’s” pre-contest build, and she minces up to me wearing one of those sweatshirts with leaves on it and its own collar. She wears large butterfly glasses attached to a thin chain around her neck.

ME: Thanks so much for agreeing to meet with me, Mrs. Chestnut. Yesterday must have been a very special day for your family.

Ida: Oh, my yes, I never in my wildest dreams thought we would hear the little old Chestnut name declared champion of anything, let alone on national TV! And when that championship is one of eating the most hot dogs, well, that certainly makes it very. . . what was the word you used? Oh yes, special. Very special.

ME: Obviously, it was a hard fought victory for Joey, but what went through your mind when you realized that your son had brought the Mustard Belt back home after it was held for 6 years by Takeru Kobayashi? And on July 4th no less!

Ida: Well, I couldn’t help but think back to my father, God bless his soul. You know, he had a bit of a run-in with the Japanese as well. Back on Midway Island during the Second World War. Mother used to say that he was the fastest running back Cherry Hill High had ever seen, took the team all the way to State, so I guess we Chestnuts have had a competitive drive in us for quite some time. Course, he didn’t run nearly as much once they gave him that new leg. Always knew when a storm was coming though, and saved a pretty number of Chestnut family picnics that way, I’ll tell you what.

ME: Obviously, the connection, even after all these years . . . you couldn’t ignore it.

Ida: Naturally. When I saw my little Joey up there, holding that pretty yellow belt. I had to ignore every ounce of my motherly know-how to not run up there and clean away the leftover bun and meat from his face right then and there, you know. But, as he lifted that trophy, sweatin’ away and his shirt covered in leftover food, water, and spit, I couldn’t help but wonder if his old Grandpa was up there, somewhere, smiling down on him. I really, really hope he was smiling. Not sure though.

ME: When did you know that Joey had this gift?

Ida: Oh, I knew right away. Bout a half dozen or so times when he was a baby, I had to go to the hospital to be treated for malnutrition and dehydration. He certainly was a thirsty baby. Of course, every mother thinks their son has a hollow leg or two, but you just couldn’t seem to find enough food for little Joey. But I didn’t think anything of it, until he went out and tried one of these contests. He came home, just beaming away, saying he had won some asparagus eating contest. He ate something like six pounds, and let me tell you, nothing makes a mother prouder than her son eating his vegetables.

ME: Oh, I bet.

Ida: Then I learned they were deep-fried, which took a little of the gleam from it. Still, healthy greens are healthy greens, I always say. There’s still some great vitamins and minerals to be taken from that asparagus. It would make him strong, I thought.

ME: Of course.

Ida: Then he threw it all up in the bathroom. Afterwards, he told me that the IFOCE {International Federation of Competitive Eating} by-laws state that you only have to keep the food down for the duration of the competition. We Chestnuts have always been strict rule-followers. Still, he did have a very nice trophy. Bronzed asparagus, could you believe it?

ME: What’s next for your young gustatory phenom?

Ida: Oh, more eating, I suppose. He’s always telling us how much he loves competitive eating, things like, “Mom, I love the competition, can’t you see that?” Or, “Mom, can’t you realize I have a gift?” Or, “Mom, I’ve been training for the Quesadilla Chow-Down for months! I can’t eat 112 in twenty minutes! Now will you please move away from the door?”

ME: Any new foods he’d like to tackle?

Ida: He says he’s thinking about eating an entire cow via an assortment of cuts of steak in a single day. No big surprise, he says he’ll use hot dogs to fill out the cow parts that aren’t so “steaky.”

ME: Moooove over, Kobayashi!

Ida: He says he wants to fill Paris Hilton’s jail cell with pesto sauce and eat his way out in a shorter amount of time than her sentence. He’s in talks with her “people” to do a joint interview with Oprah afterwards.
ME: That sounds like it will be quite a “mouthful!”

Ida: He wants to eat a live cat! I’ve had to put Mr. Sprinkles into an unnamed kennel!

ME: I guess Joey would like the cat out of the bag. And onto a plate! One last question, Mrs. Chestnut, what’s it feel like to be the mother of the best eater in the entire world?

Ida: Well, every mother stares at their smiling baby boys and hope that he makes them proud one day. I’m confident Joey will be able to do that someday.