Why I Love Costco Part 4: Big wieners

As you already know from parts 1, 2 and 3, for me there's no shortage of things to love at Costco. But so far everything has been inside the store. This time, the object of my affection is waiting right outside the front doors.

Big wieners.

Like everything else at Costco, when it comes to their hot dogs size matters. These huge frankfurters are not only filling, they're also delicious and in demand. People are lined up like it's the DMV to get their hands on these wieners.

After all, again like everything else at Costco, the price is right.

For a mere $1.50, you get one of these giant wieners, all the toppings you want and a large soft drink. If I were a homeless person - and of course, being a freelancer I'm always teetering on the edge of that - I'd hone my panhandling skills so I could score at least a $1.50 a day to eat at Costco.

I'd be the fattest homeless person at the offramp. But I'd be the happiest.

Next time you're at a Costco, after you're done shopping and have worked up an appetite pushing that mammoth shopping cart overflowing with gallon jars of mayonnaise, a two-year supply of toilet paper and 42-inch flatscreen TV, set yourself down and enjoy a cheap, delicious, filling meal.

Believe me, nothing's more satisfying than a big wiener. Especially at Costco.

Darrin did good

At every agency I’ve ever worked at, someone somewhere has a picture in their office of Dick York as bumbling adman Darrin Stephens from the 1960's television show Bewitched. I suppose it’s always around because they can point to it and say that character is nothing like what they - real life advertising people - are like (in most cases).

The funny thing is, the character is also a million miles removed from what Dick York was really like.

By the time he was hired for Bewitched, he was an accomplished actor with several prestige projects on his resume, including a co-starring role with Spencer Tracy in Inherit The Wind. Unknown to Bewitched producers, he also was an addict, hooked on painkillers as a result of a back injury he got filming 1959’s They Came To Cordura, starring Gary Cooper. Eventually his injury forced him to leave the series after the fifth season.

He never regained his career after that, and along with his wife was forced into homelessness for years due to his inability to work. Eventually, when her mother died, they stayed in her house, with Dick as a shut-in now having been diagnosed with emphysema.

But from that house, he found a way to give to others and bring meaning to his life which he knew was coming to an end.

Their residence became a clearing house for organizations nationwide that helped the homeless and needy. Thanks to Dick York, people who would’ve had to go without food, clothing and shelter didn't.

It’s easy to get caught up in the knit-cap, tattoo, hipster attitude of agency life. It's even easier to laugh at a character from a time long past that’s nothing like you are.

Well, for all the people with the picture of Darrin Stephens hanging in their office, here’s another way you're not like him.

He did something that mattered and made a difference in people’s lives.

Let's do lunch

Like most parents, I want my kids to realize all of their dreams and have all the things I never did. I want them to have a really good life, one that brings them as much happiness as humanly possible.

I also want them to be better people than I am. From the looks of it so far, that's going to be a cakewalk for them.

The other morning was my turn to drive the kids to school. They go to school seven and a half miles from our house, which for those of you keeping score is a fifteen mile round trip. Don't get me started. Anyway, at the freeway offramp we use to get there, there's always a homeless person sitting there. It's not always the same one. They, along with the standard-issue sad-eyed dog and cardboard sign, usually work the ramp a few days in a row before the shift change.

I call it Homeless Depot.

This particular morning my son had to bring a dozen Krispy Kreme donuts to school. We bought two dozen, because we wanted to have a few for ourselves on the way up (we love donut mornings around here). By the time we reached the red light at the top of the offramp, we had half a dozen extra donuts left.

My daughter said, "Dad, give him the donuts."

It took me a minute to realize who "him" was, but then I handed the donut box out the window to the homeless man who gratefully blessed our day and took them.

The next day before she left for school, my daughter put together a lunch for our homeless friend. A real lunch - sandwich, plenty of snacks, several water bottles. My wife took her to school so I didn't actually get to see her give him the lunch, but I heard all about it. He was visibly touched. My daughter and him exchanged God-bless-you's at the same time.

One of my daughter's many strengths is her kind and caring heart (definitely from her mother's side). It's hard to conceive how so much love can fit in one little girl.

But it does. And it only goes to prove what I've known since she arrived.

That she's as beautiful inside as she is outside.

Why I Love Costco Part 1: The Costco Diet

Where to start. Okay, let’s start with the samples.

If I were homeless*, which could still happen – I have goals you know - I’d find myself a popular freeway off-ramp, design a really nice cardboard sign (I have art director friends, so….) and be the best gosh, darn homeless person asking for money so I could get enough to buy a Costco membership.

Then, I’d go on the Costco diet.

The Costco diet consists of walking up one big aisle in Costco and down the other, sampling all the foods they offer along the way. Yesterday two of the offerings were Hormel Chili (“Not too watery, not too salty...”) and fresh-baked Costco pumpkin pies which, as my friend Phil says, are the size of manhole covers.

The beauty of the Costco diet is the randomness of it. One day it’s frozen cheescake and Hansens Nectar. The next its Louisiana Hot Links and chicken soup.

Sampling food at Costco always reminds me of Woody Allen’s line from Annie Hall, “This food is terrible. And such small portions.” The samples are small, but the good news is the people handing them out aren’t paid nearly enough to care how many times you go back.

Especially if you wear your sweatshirt hood up the second time around. Or so I hear.

If you’re really hungry, go back a lot. If you’re on a strict “I don’t know what kind of cheese that is but they’re handing it out so I’ll try it” diet, then just make one pass through the store.

I know, you’re probably thinking virtually endless free samples of preservative-laden, packaged and canned food is its own reward. And you're right. That alone would make the visit worth the trip. But there’s also a hidden benefit: since the stores are so ginormous, not only are you getting a free meal, you’re also getting in a ton of exercise with all the walking you're doing.

At least that's what I tell myself.

Maybe their new tagline should be “Costco. It works on so many levels.”

I don’t want to give anyone the wrong idea. I mentioned the Costco diet is what I’d do if I were homeless. The truth is I occasionally do it now, although not out of necessity. And not every day. I try to stick to weekends between 10 and 3 when the number of sample hander-outers and variety is the greatest.

There are many things to love about Costco (Modern Family even devoted part of an episode to it). Sampling is just one of them.

I’ll discuss more in the next installment of what I just now decided to call The Costco Files.

*I realize homelessness is a serious problem. It is not my intention to diminish it or make fun of anyone in that situation. If you’re homeless and reading this blog on your laptop, I’m sorry.