Kevin Lentz already knows when he’s making his last hot dog at the Weiner Factory on Ventura Boulevard and Kester Avenue. That’s New Year’s Eve, and then he’s off with his wife, Sherry, to explore archeological sites and scuba dive in Belize and consider whether that last dog was to be his last hot dog forever. Pinkberry, the yogurt shop, is coming and the Wiener Factory, the neighborhood touchstone, is leaving. The landlord got a better offer. “They gave him an offer he couldn’t refuse. They’re building him a building. I’d have taken that offer,” Lentz said. But this building is the neighborhood landmark, after about 28 years, that is known as much for being a home to franks as it is for the “Laugh-In”-style aphorisms scrawled on its walls. “If at first you DO succeed, try not to look astonished;” “Can vegetarians eat animal crackers?;” “Old musicians never die, they just decompose.” The atmosphere is part of the appeal to new-regular Brad Lesley. “The game is always on. This is like a local pub atmosphere,” he said, but for families. His son, Luke, polished off a hot dog with cheese and catsup. “Have another,” dad said. Lesley, involved in professional baseball for 30 years, and now is a minor league roving pitching coach for the San Francisco Giants, cited those credentials as validation for his rave review of the dogs Lentz makes “you know how baseball and hot dogs go together?” Lesley went through a sauerkraut and cheese combo and lamented how he’s lived in the area for 10 years but only stopped in about three months ago. Making up for lost time, he’s been coming in “two to three times a week,” he said. Sindy and Jordan are from the neighborhood; mom and son ate matching hot dogs with light yellow mustard and sauerkraut. Mom has been coming for about 20 years, easily a decade and more, longer than her adolescent. “I like how crunchy they are,” Sindy said, and despite anticipating the pending Pinkberry, gives an endorsement to Lentz. “I’m so sorry you’re leaving.” A couple weeks before closing, although Lentz described himself as “emotionally detached” he was already imagining a future with dogs. After all, he’s been doing this for about 20 years after taking over from his uncle. “This may turn out to be a great opportunity,” he said, mentioning offers of franchising and merchandizing. He figures he can recapture his clientele if he reopens anywhere within a mile and a half. But in the meantime, it’s Belize; and then, Lentz will be off for a few months seeking the “clarity of vision that comes with distance.” At 53 he said, “I do nothing quickly except making dogs.”