Revolution on a Budget
Hot dogs, cheap dates, and making your money support your values
My wife and I have a weekly date.
It’s not fancy. There’s no reservations, no dress code, no sommelier asking if we’d like to see the wine list. There’s fluorescent lighting and a cement floor and someone’s kid having a meltdown in the cart behind us.
It’s perfect.
Every week, we drive to Costco. We wander the aisles like it’s a museum of abundance. We sample whatever they’re handing out - cheese? tiny cups of smoothie? some kind of cracker situation? yes please. We debate whether two people near to retirement age really need a 48-pack of anything. (The answer is sometimes yes.)
And then we sit down together at those little metal tables by the food court and share a hot dog and a drink.
For $1.50.
That’s not a typo. A buck fifty. That hot dog has cost $1.50 since Gerald Ford was president. Legend has it that when a Costco executive suggested raising the price, co-founder Jim Sinegal replied, “If you raise the effing hot dog, I will kill you.”
Reader, they did not raise the hot dog.
So why did two people with no kids at home, who’d never done the warehouse grocery thing before, suddenly buy a Costco membership in February 2025?
Because in those first chaotic weeks of Trump’s return, when company after company was folding like cheap lawn chairs, Costco did something remarkable.
They said no.
When a conservative think tank demanded they evaluate the “risks” of their diversity programs, the board unanimously recommended shareholders reject it. And the shareholders did - by 98%.
When Ken Paxton and 19 state attorneys general sent a threatening letter demanding Costco eliminate their DEI policies within 30 days, Costco essentially replied: Our diverse workforce helps us serve our diverse customers. This is good business. Thanks for your concern.
While Target and Walmart and Meta and Amazon were rushing to scrub the word “diversity” from their websites, Costco was explaining that their employees “from all walks of life” help them stock the shelves with the products that make shopping there a “treasure hunt.”
That word got me. Treasure hunt. That’s exactly what it is. Lady T and I wandering the aisles, discovering some random thing we didn’t know we needed. They get it - and they know their people are why it works.
And they don’t just talk about valuing their employees. They pay them.
As of this year, Costco’s minimum wage is $20 an hour. Their average wage is over $31 an hour. They give first-year employees paid vacation. Thirty-year employees get six weeks off. They offer real health insurance, not the skeletal “coverage” that some retailers use to check a box.
In an industry where billion-dollar companies treat workers as disposable, Costco figured out something radical: if you pay people well and treat them with dignity, they stick around. They learn. They care. They become the reason customers keep coming back.
What a concept.
Just this week, Costco took another step. They filed a lawsuit challenging Trump’s emergency tariffs - not because they love international trade theory, but because they’ve been eating costs to avoid passing the pain to customers like you and me, and they’d like their money back if the courts confirm what two lower courts have already ruled: that the tariffs are unlawful.
They’re not leading a revolution. They’re just... running a business. One that pays its people, serves its customers, stands by its values, and doesn’t flinch when powerful men send threatening letters.
The Bigger Picture
Here’s something they don’t want you to think too hard about: in a consumer economy, your spending is speech.
Every dollar is a tiny vote. And those votes add up.
When Robby Starbuck - one guy with a Twitter account - launched campaigns against corporate DEI programs, companies folded almost overnight. Target. John Deere. Lowe’s. Harley-Davidson. One influencer applied pressure, and billion-dollar corporations scrambled to comply.
That should make you furious. But it should also make you curious.
Because if consumer pressure works for them, it works for us too.
The companies that bent the knee did so because they thought the backlash would hurt their bottom line. The companies that held firm - Costco, Levi’s, ELF cosmetics - did the math and decided their values were worth defending. In Costco’s case, they were rewarded: while Target saw foot traffic drop for ten straight weeks after abandoning DEI, Costco gained nearly eight million additional store visits.
Turns out, there are more of us than there are of them. We just have to show up.
The Frog’s Point
Here’s the thing about resistance: it doesn’t always look like marching in the streets. Sometimes it looks like choosing where to buy your toilet paper.
You’re going to spend money on groceries anyway. The question is: who gets it?
You can give it to Walmart, whose owners are among the richest people on Earth while their employees qualify for food stamps. You can give it to any number of companies that folded at the first angry tweet.
Or you can give it to a place that decided their values weren’t negotiable.
This isn’t about purity. It’s not about being a perfect consumer - that’s impossible, and the pursuit of it will make you crazy. It’s about nudging your dollars, when you can, toward the people who are trying to do it right.
Lady T and I aren’t changing the world with our weekly Costco run. But we’re also not funding the people who’d make it worse. And we’re getting a pretty good deal on olive oil.
Plus, you know.
The hot dog.
🐸 Ribbit.
Where you spend your $ matters. Let's go get a hotdog!