Day, the Seventh
Appetite, a Universal Wolf
A few years ago, I had it in my head that I would write a book called “Driving the Brand: Behind the Wheel of the Wienermobile and Other Stories of Silly Corporate Travel.”
My elevator pitch? I’d convince a bunch of famous corporate entities to let me and my four-year-old daughter drive their weird-o novelty cars around the country and I’d write about it. The LL Bean Boot. The PEEPS Mobile. The Red Bull Volvo. The Lightning McQueen Disney Car.
And of course, the irresistible Oscar Mayer Wienermobile.
In my mind, this was such a good idea – foolproof really – that I actually applied for a position driving the Wienermobile (WB) for a summer. So confident was I of my background and ability, that I developed an outline for the book, and began looking over my calendar and the logistics involved in taking a kindergartener on a trip around New England, handing out hotdogs to eager passersby and bonding as only a father and daughter driving around in a giant hot dog could.
It may come as no surprise – literally to anyone except apparently me at time – that I did not get the job. And that in fact, gigantic corporate entities like SPAM are just awfully touchy about their image and the image of their novelty vehicles and the thought of a journalist behind the wheel of the Hershey Kiss Mobile with his precocious daughter was enough to make them run as fast as they could in the opposite direction.
So that idea went nowhere.
But I’ll be darned if that didn’t leave a bad taste in my mouth for a long time. I mean, I knew I could do it. I had the chops to pull it off. Heck, they never even called me back!
Fast forward a couple years to the end of last month. The scene: my now seven-year-old daughter and myself are pulling into the movie theater parking lot in Hooksett. It’s the day before Halloween. She’s wearing a costume of a beloved character of hers from Disney’s Descendants. We are about to enter a massive Trunk or Treat event put on by one of the local churches and we are prepared to come home with an enormous amount of candy.
And as I round the corner to find a parking space, I see her, bright orange and yellow sparkling like grease on a grill in the sun. The Wienermobile. It’s here!
I actually shout, “Oh my gosh look!”
“Daddy, is that the Wienermobile?”
“It is!”
She actually screams in joy. Or was that me? Either way, we are both now clapping and yelling like crazy people.
Suddenly, the Trunk or Treat line feels interminable. The WB is parked at the end of the route, the ultimate treat at the conclusion of our hike through the parking lot. Little Bean makes out like a candy bandit, as she always does – so much candy that I have to fill some of my pockets with overflow.
Then, finally, it’s our turn! The current WB was built in 2004 at Prototype Source in Santa Barbara. The WB is a 4 speed/W4 Chevy Chassis with a V8 engine and a fiberglass hot dog interior and cockpit. The car company also built the Planters Nut Mobile and Pepperidge Farm Goldfish Mobile.
“What do we do, daddy, can we get a hot dog?”
“Let’s ask!”
When it gets to be our turn, the head wiener guy cracks a bunch of jokes about us relishing our visit and so forth but really they just want to get all the people through. Little Bean gets to climb up into the main compartment and check out the slick IT system. We’re ushered to the front of the WB, given a couple Wienermobile whistles and we’re done.
I’m… I’m disappointed. “I thought we’d get hot dogs,” I say to Little Bean.
She shrugs and says, “Yeah, but listen.”
She takes a deep breath, put the whistle to her mouth and blows as hard as she can, and I must admit the whistles are loud!
We go check out the fire truck, get a little more swag and then it’s time to go. But right there, just before we leave the parking area is one more truck, a food truck.
“Daaaaaddy,” Little Bean is pointing. “Hot dogs, daddy, hot dogs!”
I buy one hot dog and one can of coke. No ketchup, or relish, we leave it plain. My daughter and I sit on the curb within sight of the sacred Wienermobile, and I tear the hot dog in two and hand her half.
And there we sit, in my mind two wanderers, coasting down the open state roads from town to town, stopping to talk to the locals who all come out of their clapboard homes when the Wienermobile drives by.
We are an everyday father and daughter, sharing a hot dog and washing it down with a Coke. A simple life. Just her and me and our Wienermobile.
Loved this story. Doing a great job with the stories you're coming up with Dan. Can't wait for the next one.
Have you ever considered writing the story of driving the Wienermobile coast to coast anyway, as a fiction novel rather than a travel log? I love the idea. I’d absolutely read that!