Spam

Costco's semi-annual spam sale used to occur like clockwork in March and September. COVID caused Costco and Hormel to suspend the sales for 3 years, and they resumed in 2022 .

However, the timing is less predictable. The most recent markdown was in August, and another started yesterday.

How will I know when to borrow my neighbor's pick-up truck?

The Spam Indicator

Costco and Hormel are again running their semi-annual Spam sale.

In March the sale price on an eight-pack was $22.99-$5.00=$17.99.

This month both the list price and the discount are a dollar higher, so the net price is the same ($23.99-$6.00=$17.99). At $2.25 per can, the sale price was the same as it was in October, 2022.

If I were part of the Biden-Harris Administration I would trumpet this as a sign that food inflation has abated, but I doubt that many of them purchase canned luncheon meat, and even fewer track its prices.

One Sign That Inflation is Abating

Spam is on sale again at Costco. At eight cans for $17.99, it's the same price as it was 17 months ago.

For comparison sake pre-COVID prices were $14.99 in 2019 and $13.99 in 2018.

Inflation is abating, but hopes for disinflation back to 2019 price levels is not going to happen any time soon. But that's ok. I have plenty of Spam to tide me over.

Recovery Confirmed

Returning to the Bay Area, I went to Costco to buy the ingredients for the sandwich assembly tomorrow.

However, I did take a moment to stop at the Spam display to celebrate the sale. Hormel and Costco used to have a semi-annual promotion, which stopped in March, 2019. After a 3½-year hiatus the markdowns resumed last October . There had not been a sale this year, and I feared that the spam recovery signal was false.

Not to worry, the sale is back on in July, and all is right with the world.

Upper Crust

I saw it. I wanted it. I can't get it. "It" is Hormel's Figgy Pudding Spam.

Let's start with what's in "classic" Spam: pork, sugar, water, salt, potato starch, and sodium nitrate (a preservative).

The new seasonal Spam includes additional "fig and orange flavors, cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg, ginger and all spice."

This is not your grandmother's Spam. FPS retails at 2 cans for $10 and can only be found at Walmart.com, Amazon.com, and Spam.com. I'm used to paying less than $2.50 per unit for basic Spam at Costco.

Figgy Pudding Spam is beyond my normal price point, but for this I'd make an exception.

The Spam Signal

The Federal Reserve looks at thousands of data points to determine whether inflation has peaked. I need just one.

After 3½ years Costco has resumed its semi-annual Spam sales. While the sale price of $17.99 for eight cans was 28% higher than it was on March, 2019, Hormel's $5 price cut must have indicated a supply-demand return to normalcy. I stocked up, and I'm good through 2025.

Chairman Powell, you can stop raising interest rates. Spam has issued its signal.

Hands-Free Was Impossible

Ron Nagasawa of Midweek writes about a driving incident ("Phone Spam") that could only happen in Hawaii.

Zippy's spam musubi

I am a huge proponent of no hands-on mobile phone use while driving. The first thing I told my daughter when she got her driver's license was there would be no texting or talking on her mobile phone while driving. Any instance, and I mean any, and she would lose her license, period.

These days that doesn't seem to be an issue, as many newer cars are equipped with hands-free everything for your mobile phone. Unfortunately, I still see people on the road talking on their hand-held phone or texting at stoplights.

We all know it only takes one unfortunate mishap to change your life. Same goes for drunk or "buzzed" driving. I have to say, I've really noticed a lot of people being mindful of that and engage the use of a designated driver or ride sharing services. And lately, I've been seeing commercials about distracted driving.

I have to confess that I do drink coffee while driving and have an occasional snack or sandwich, but never when I'm driving in a residential area or in a city block with traffic stops. I only partake in the practice if I'm moving on the freeway.

The other morning I decided to provide a local-style breakfast - a platter of Spam musubi from Zippy's - for my staff. I threw this breakfast of champions on the passenger seat next to me and as I entered the freeway to get to work, I started to sip my coffee. If you've ever had a Spam musubi from Zippy's, you know that the urge to eat one is strong. It almost flies into your hand like Thor's hammer. Well, the next thing I knew I was biting into one of these savory offerings. I alternated it with hits of hot coffee and my life was feeling pretty darn good. There weren't many cars on the road so I was cruising.

That's when in the distance I saw a motorcycle cop pointing a speed radar gun at me. I was not speeding, I never do. That's because I drive a German sports car, albeit 15 years old, but it's still a cop magnet.

I saw him wave at me to pull over. Great, just when I was having a nice peaceful morning with my coffee and Spam musubi. I rolled down my window as he walked up, confident that I couldn't possibly have been speeding.

He politely asked to see my driver's license and I asked what I did wrong. He said, "Were you talking on your cell phone while driving?" I wasn't, but then realized he must have mistaken the Spam musubi for a mobile phone!

I said no and he politely asked me to show him my call history on my phone. I was too embarrassed to say what I was actually doing, but he said OK and I could be on my way. I caught a lucky break.

Good thing because I had already eaten the evidence.

I do think that the writer embellished the tale to come up with a good finishing line -- "I had already eaten the evidence"-- when there was a platter of substitutes to show the police officer, but the story is otherwise plausible.

One can easily mistake the rectangular spam musubi for a cellphone held to one's lips in the speakerphone position.

Next time he should buy a box of malasadas.

A Time for Hunkering Down

In February your humble blogger, admittedly sensitized by the experience of the 1970's, saw the warning signs:

Today's gargantuan deficits in the $trillions and near-zero interest rates have not resulted in inflation...yet; but now may finally be the time when history repeats.

Speaking of the 1970's, the approaching train wreck had grown more apparent by May:

The economy is warm if not hot, the Administration is proposing $trillions in additional spending, and the Federal Reserve is promising to keep rates low...It is possible that the economy will not experience inflation if high government spending on the wrong things (unemployment insurance extensions that keep workers home), high taxes, and high regulation results in stagnation. But an economic boom and low inflation? No way...and I hope my pessimism is wrong.

Policy mistakes are now obvious in December, and the economy is experiencing the highest inflation in 39 years: [bold added]

U.S. inflation reached a nearly four-decade high in November, as strong consumer demand collided with pandemic-related supply constraints.

The Labor Department said the consumer-price index—which measures what consumers pay for goods and services—rose 6.8% in November from the same month a year ago. That was the fastest pace since 1982 and the sixth straight month in which inflation topped 5%.

Inflation: no more semi-annual sales of Spam
and prices are up by 8%

We're just going to have to hunker down as best we can while the Federal Reserve slows the growth of the money supply by tapering its bond purchases.

Meanwhile, I'm glad I stocked up on Spam when it was on sale before COVID-19.

Keeping Her Safe from Spam Musubi

Mom's assisted living facility serves healthy, balanced meals chopped fine to reduce the risk of choking in the elderly residents.

They do permit outside food to be brought in (we do cut it up, but not as granularly as the facility), so I picked up Hawaiian food for her lunch and dinner.

Impulsively I grabbed a spam musubi for her afternoon snack.

It was only later, as I was cutting and sorting the food into containers, that I noticed that the spam musubi should be consumed by 1 p.m. and could not be used for her snack.

Without hesitation I ate it. Anything to keep her safe.

Normal is When Spam Sales Resume

One of the minor downsides of COVID-19 is that Costco no longer has sales on such essentials as toilet paper and cleaning supplies.

To certain households like mine another essential is Spam. Costco used to have a sale in March and September. This picture from five years ago (April 9, 2016) shows an eight-pack of Spam to be $19.99 - $5.00 = $14.99. Well, they still sell it for $19.99, but there hasn’t been a sale for a year and a half, before the pandemic.

We're down to sixteen (!) cans, the oldest of which expires in August, 2023. I suppose I can hold out a little longer before having to stock up on Spam at the retail price.

C'mon, vaccines, do your magic.

Spam: When You Just Gotta Have It

No sale, and quantities are limited to 2.

Another probable casualty of the coronavirus: Costco's semi-annual Spam sale.

After skipping it in September, 2019, I looked for the sale this March; however, it wasn't there. We were just beginning to experience the supply shortages brought on by the virus. Surely by now, September, the shelves would overflow with America's favorite canned luncheon meat. Alas, again there was no sale.

We were down, uncomfortably, to our last eight cans, so I bought 16 more at full price.

Hey. don't judge. When the power goes out for days, I'll be dining on a slice of moist, salty goodness to accompany a hunk of bread or a scoop of rice, while others will be picking through formerly refrigerated spoils. It would have been nice, though, if I had gotten $5 off each package.

FORO (Fear of Running Out)

The chicken was sold out at FC Costco.

Bay Area residents often look askance at the hoarding behavior of other Americans hunkering down for (or fleeing) hurricanes, floods, and tornadoes, but when put to the test by coronavirus, we're no better:

Bare shelves and frayed nerves were on full display over the weekend at Bay Area grocery stores as the coronavirus continued to spread.

Shoppers described chaotic scenes, many of which were shared on social media: stacks of rice and toilet paper snatched up within seconds, checkout lines that snaked through entire stores, and jam-packed parking lots reminiscent of Christmas Eve.

I have been restocking more frequently, but not to the extent of amassing above-normal levels of supplies. (Think of it as refilling the gas tank when it is half full and not waiting until the one-quarter mark.) A 50-lb. bag of rice, plus 20 cans of spam, will ensure survival through summer.

Note: preparing for the coronavirus is easier than it is for natural disasters, when one cannot assume water, power, and communications, including WiFi, will be operational.

The Spam Hypothesis

The pantry, like my inbox, overflows with spam. Lately I've been trying to live healthier, which means eating less meat. Spam, which is loaded with preservatives and comes from a can, seems to be the antithesis of healthy food. Consequently I haven't consumed any Spam inventory, and I had to pass up the semi-annual sale at Costco.

In my quiet moments, though, I wonder if we have it all wrong. Products like Spam and Coca Cola have a distant expiration date. Could it be that their preservatives have the same effect on living tissue?

Could it be that a diet of Spam and Coke will extend life? Even if that turns out not to be the case, there's the making of a best seller here...

Spam: Long-Term Investment

Like clockwork it was time for the equinoctial (March and September) Spam sale at Costco. Though we already had 16 cans in the pantry I bought eight more.

The cans' expiration dates are 2021-2023, giving us plenty of time to consume the inventory.

Besides, one can never have enough emergency supplies in earthquake country, and even when opened spam takes days to spoil. It's not just food, it's a long-term investment.

Know Your Luncheon Meat

We thought we liked Spam, but clearly not as much as shoppers at the South San Francisco Costco.

Costco has an unsurpassed inventory tracking system that matches supply to estimated demand. The quantity on display was more than double that in Foster City.

For its semi-annual sale there are even several pallets of original-formula Spam, which has 33% higher sodium content.

In south City they know their luncheon meat.

Spam: the All-Purpose Substitute

It's September, which means it's time for Costco's semi-annual Spam sale.

Spam is an all-purpose substitute for the cook who doesn't have much time. For split-pea soup, fried rice, or ramen I prefer to use fresh ham, chicken, and pork, respectively, but when there isn't time to go to the store and/or spend an additional half-hour cooking, popping the can is the easy solution.

All the better if the members of the household aren't discriminating diners.

We have plenty in the pantry, but one can never have too much Spam.

Less Steak, More Spam

Whether he planned it or not, recent economic developments have helped Donald Trump in his battle with coastal elites.

One source of wealth, high-end real estate, will stop increasing and may even fall. The Tax Cut and Jobs Act reduces the deductions for state and local taxes and for mortgage interest. The elimination of these tax subsidies may well cool off the overheated real estate market in New York and California.

The drop in the stock market, whether due to the threat of a trade war, Facebook's woes, higher interest rates, political uncertainty, or all of the above, hammers the other major source of wealth for the coastal elites.

It's ironic that these developments will reduce the stark economic wealth inequality of the coasts versus middle America much more than occurred under President Obama, yet Donald Trump will never get a smidgeon of credit from progressives.

Related: it's time for Costco's semi-annual sale on Spam, so I picked up a package. Less steak, more spam--time to watch my pennies.

Spam: Easy to Rationalize

With 15 cans in the pantry it's unlikely that we will run out of Spam before the next sale (spaced 5-6 months apart at Costco; the last one was in March).

Then I watched how people had to fend for themselves after hurricane(s). Then I thought how the North Koreans could launch an EMP missile that will disable the West Coast power grid. Refrigerators could be out for weeks. I would regret not picking up another six-pack.

Spam tastes good and resonates emotionally to those born in Hawaii. It also lasts forever.

Today's purchase was easy to rationalize.

Part of My Estate, Probably

April is the month for showers, taxes, and Costco's annual Spam sale.

Last year we loaded the larder and have been drawing down the inventory on a FIFO basis, though with Spam it doesn't matter which inventory method is used.

Like land and art work, Spam never spoils (the accounting term is depreciate).

I bought a couple of six-packs for the emergency locker. Unlike batteries Spam's expiration date is so distant that I'll never have to rotate the stores.

Tempting, But No

CVS, like many retailers, is touting its healthy foods and snacks.

Absent from the webpage are the CVS Spam products in the 50th State, not only the regular and low-sodium offerings on the Mainland but also exotic variations like Portuguese-sausage Spam and Teriyaki Spam.

Don't be reticent, CVS. Proclaim your ability to cater to local tastes!

Did I buy some to take back to California? Tempting, but no.