A post to relish

For me, one of the great joys in life, besides air conditioning and Mexican Coke in the large bottles, is having a movie theater hot dog.

Now however bad you think regular hot dogs are - and they are very bad - movie hot dogs are even lower on the hot dog food chain.

If you google what's in a hot dog, you'll see a lot of extremely unappetizing words like beef trimmings, extruding, flavor additives. And my favorite, non-food particles.

None of that matters much when I'm shelling out $4.75 for a movie hot dog. However bad it is, I usually smother it with mustard and relish anyway.

But lately I've noticed a disturbing trend. The big chains like AMC and Edwards have switched from the Heinz brand name condiments to these generic ones, imaginatively named Sweet Relish and Yellow Mustard. This is a bad thing. Mainly because the only thing of quality on a movie hot dog were the condiments.

I understand it's a cost-cutting measure for the theaters. One cost they're not cutting - and I know you'll be as shocked as I am - is the price of the hot dog. For that price, I want the brand name goods to smother the meat batter (another term you'll see) flavor that's waiting in the bun.

I think it's time to start a movement. And not just the one you have after eating a movie hot dog. I think it's time to rise up, not go gently into that good night, well, dark theater, without letting the 16-year old theater manager know that if you're going to pay 400 times what the hot dog cost them, at least you want quality toppings for it.

I was also thinking cardboard would be a step up from the usual movie theater hot dog bun. Don't get me started.

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.

The Talk

All too quickly there comes a time in every parents life where you have to sit your children down and have "the talk." Which is ironic, because I'm still waiting for my parents to have the talk with me.

Anyway, today my wife and I had "the talk" with my daughter. Like most parents, we were trying to avoid it for as long as humanly possible. But there was a catalyst we just couldn't ignore: this week she's going to see "the film" that her school show girls when they begin the sex education part of the curriculum.

Before they show "the film", the school sends home a permission slip for parents to sign.  I imagine a lot of parents sign it with a huge sense of relief that the school will now be doing a job they're too embarrassed to do.

We didn't see it that way. We thought she should hear it from us first.

As we started to talk to her, my ten-year-old daughter turned red, pulled the blanket over her face and laughed a whole lot while we explained how things work and where babies come from. But a little while into it, she quieted down and really listened. Then she asked questions. Then she understood.

My invaluable contribution was teaching her important phrases, like "put it back in your pants", "zip it" and "I don't care if you're happy to see me."

So right about now the wife and I are feeling pretty proud of the mature way we tackled "the talk." If it hadn't gone so well, I was ready with Plan B.

But I guess now I can put the donuts and hot dogs away.