Today my inner 10-year-old boy got the thrill of a lifetime. I was having lunch outside with the Red Sox Fan when the Oscar Meyer Wienermobile drove by, gliding right down Third Street through the heart of downtown Columbus. The Wienermobile! Here!
What 10-year-old boy didn’t think the Wienermobile was cool? Sure, the Batmobile was cooler, but who wouldn’t want to ride in a car that was tricked out like a hot dog in a bun, singing the “Oh I wish I were an Oscar Meyer wiener” song at the top of your little kid lungs as you turned heads in every town from sea to shining sea?
When the Wienermobile drove by, I’d be willing to bet that every male in the vicinity looked at the car, felt like a kid again, and thought with a chuckle and a fond recollection of the humor of a 10-year-old: “Heh. Wiener.” And that’s the wonder of the Wienermobile.