Beef dinner franks is printed on the side of an open box. Proclaims them, "Sinai Kosher." And yet the franks are gone. Were they ever here? I can't remember. This box must have held a hundred, but I've eaten four or five, no more. The sign's an empty symbol. Pointing to the truth of wholesome hot dogs, it has nothing to offer the earnest seeker. Symbols without substance lose their meaning, waste our time, add clutter where simplicity is better suited.