HOT DOG DAZE

I Co-Piloted an Oscar Mayer Wienermobile

Oh, I wish I were an Oscar Mayer Wiener

I was in that state that people sometimes call “in between opportunities.”

I’d not gotten the summer job I wanted at the University of Tennessee’s Body Farm, which was probably just as well. But I needed something to sink my teeth into to pay bills and get reestablished after spending almost nine months in Jamaica teaching at Montego Bay Girl’s College.

So I sunk my teeth into hotdogs.

Lots and lots of them over the two and a half months I spent working for Oscar Mayer in their “Dog Days of Summer” marketing campaign.

I, along with two other brave souls, were selected to drive the 23-foot long Wienermobile throughout West Tennessee, showing up at grocery centers, county fairs, baseball parks and other attractions.

Our job was to create a buzz around the wieners by giving away grills, packages of hot dogs, t-shirts and ball caps, and other Oscar Mayer memorabilia.

Ed Roland, who currently runs the Wienermobile program, says the promotion is “like running a PR firm on wheels.”

Founded in 1883, the Oscar Mayer’s famous hotdogs have remained a staple in the homes of millions of American families — primarily due to the company’s relentless marketing.

Their print, radio and TV advertising has been consistently clever and memorable. And with the advent of the wienermobile in 1936, they created a symbol every American kid was familiar with by the time they could sing the jingle “I wish I were an Oscar Mayer wiener!”

Below is a 1950s black-and-white TV commercials.

After we were hired we went through an intensive week-long training. This included learning how to maneuver the gigantic vehicle. I was placed in a team of three, and was quick to whisper to the other two that I’d be more than happy to let either of them be the primary driver.

They eagerly agreed. I was excited about the job but not about driving the Wienermobile. In other words, I was a weenie about driving the wienie.

So, I was dubbed “The Co-Pilot.”

Below is a 1960s commercial with the famous Oscar Mayer jingle.

On the road with the Wienermobile

Once we were turned loose with the Wienermobile our work was cut out for us. We had fun but we encountered a lot of craziness and mishaps.

A few times we got lost. There’s nothing like driving around in a 23-foot hotdog in a small town looking for a particular grocery store that didn’t exist.

“Y’all are in the wrong place,” we were told in a couple of instances. “This town doesn’t have a Piggly-Wiggly.” Or, we’d strike out and find ourselves in a residential neighborhood, miles away from our intended destination.

This was long before cell phones and apps that guide you to wherever you need to go.

I can remember one time pretending we had arrived at a particular neighborhood on purpose.

“What the heck, why not?” we asked ourselves as we swung open the door and announced to the bewildered crowd that we were giving away a grill to the first person who could sing and dance the Oscar Mayer Wienie song.

After we awarded the grill to a young man actually sporting a grill in his teeth, we gave away handfuls of t-shirts and coupons.

It may not have been our destination spot but we felt good about making the neighbors happy. One of them ran home to grab his Polaroid camera so he could prove to his friends he’d actually seen the Wienermobile with his own eyes.

While we’d been told to not let curious people inside the Wienermobile that didn’t deter a few individuals who managed to push their way in while we were standing outside chatting with people and giving away stuff.

One guy attempted to drive off with it and was deterred by one of my fellow Hotdoggers, a former high school football player who tackled him to the floor and wrested the keys out of his hand.

From then on we were more vigilant about guarding the door and someone always had the keys in their pocket when we were outside.

Once there was a mix-up regarding us being at a certain grocery store. The manager came raging toward us while customers excitedly surrounded the vehicle.

He wanted to know what the hell we thought we were doing.

“Helping you guys sell a ton of hotdogs?” one of us asked. Seems he didn’t get the memo from management about our coming to the store.

After he made a few calls he returned and told us to move the Wienermobile to the very back end of the parking lot.

After we relocated I noticed a small mom and pop grocer across the street. For the next six hours we handed out coupons and told people the store across the street was waiting for them to buy their hotdogs with the discounted coupons.

As people flocked to the mom and pop we held our breath hoping the store had plenty of the product. After an hour one of the owners came over to thank us for sending him customers. He asked his wife to call their supplier to bring more hotdogs to their store.

It was a profitable deal for retailers because they got double the value of the discounted coupons when they sent them back to the company.

Later in the day the store manager walked over to us as we were playing Oscar Mayer trivia games with the customers and giving out prizes.

As he stood with folded arms he noticed people leaving the Wienermobile and sprinting across the street with their coupons.

“Where the hell are they going?” he demanded. I shrugged my shoulders.

“That store is closer,” I reasoned.

He huffed off and we laughed.

Would you drive a Wienermobile?

If you ever thought you’d like to commandeer the Wienermobile, just know that in a a typical year, the Wienermobile program receives up to 1,500 applications for the 12 open slots.

In a recent year they received almost 7,000 applications.

Oscar Mayer currently operates a fleet of six Wienermobiles. The crews, who are called Hotdoggers, travel in pairs and host around 200 pop-up events over the course of the year. These are no longer just summer gigs, and the training is more intense.

Hotdoggers are responsible for pitching local television, radio and newspaper media as well as contributing content to the company’s social media channels.

Conclusion

When I think of the jobs I’ve had over my lifetime as a teenager, a student, a freshly minted college grad and various stages of adulthood, I look back on my days as a Hotdogger as one of the most fun jobs I’ve ever had.

I’m “frankful” to have had it — I really relished the opportunity. But I don’t think I could cut the mustard at this age.

My only regret is I could kick myself for not hanging on to my plastic, foot-long replica of the wienermobile, the distinctive whistle and other trinkets.

Unfortunately, I gave them all to nieces and nephews who might one day make a handsome profit in the collectibles world.

© 2024 Deborah Camp. All rights reserved.

Thank you for your time and attention.

The job I didn’t get, below.