Tag Archives: ice cream bars

The Ice Cream Truck

Summertime is here and with summertime comes the classic Ice Cream Truck.

Remember?  Can you hear it… the happy music? Can you taste the creamy vanilla ice cream?  Can you feel the melting fudge bar dripping down your hands? Those were good days.

Used to be driving the Ice Cream Truck was a proud profession.  Ice Cream Men would canvass neighborhoods in their white trucks, dressed up in crisply pressed white uniforms with a black bow tie and a Captain’s hat, selling the classic Fudgesicles, Ice Cream Bars and Rocket Popsicles.  These guys were rock stars, with hordes of screaming kids following in their wake who were carrying wads of sweaty money in their hands that they had, only seconds before, extorted from their parents.

Circa 1950:

Cue Ice Cream Truck Music… tune of “Do Your Ears Hang Low.”

“AHHHHHHHHH… IT’S THE ICE CREAM MAN!!!!!”

Chaos ensues… kids running in all directions at warp speed towards their houses.

“Daddy, daddy can I have some money for the Ice Cream Man, please Daddy, please?”

“Billy, seriously, you’ve bought Ice Cream the last thirty-eight days in a row.  Whattya say we take a break today?”

“WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!”

“Okay, okay, here’s a few bucks.  Hey, say hi to Mr. Jones for me… he’s a good guy you know… and while you’re out there get your old man a Triple Chocolate Ice Cream Supreme Bar.”

It was as American as Apple Pie and Chevrolet… cooling off kids on hot summer days.  Then one day Ice Cream Men became creepier than clowns, creepier than the Carnies that operate the Tilt-a-Whirl at the county fair, creepier than… used car salesmen.  What the hell happened?  When did all the Ice Cream Men go from being clean-cut, handsome, all American studs … to Appalachian, pedophilic, dentally-impaired, drug-addled hillbillies? When did the classic white Captains uniform get replaced with the not-so-classic denim shorts and wife-beater tee?

It’s a sad state of affairs!

The kids don’t care though… ‘cause to them it’s still just the Ice Cream Man.  To a kid there’s not a bunch of Ice Cream Men… it’s kind of like Santa Claus… there’s just one Ice Cream Man, and every day he travels all over the world selling Ice Cream out of his little truck.

Circa 2011:

Cue Ice Cream Truck Music… tune of “Do Your Ears Hang Low.”

AHHHHHHHHH… IT’S THE ICE CREAM MAN!!!!!”

Chaos ensues… kids running in all directions at warp speed towards their houses.

“Daddy, daddy can I have some money for the Ice Cream Man, please Daddy, please?”

“Billy, seriously, you’ve bought Ice Cream the last thirty-eight days in a row.  Whattya say we take a break today?”

“WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!”

“Okay, okay, here’s a few bucks.  Make it a quick transaction though, that guy’s a god-damn freak show… if he asks you any personal questions, don’t answer him, and don’t look him in the eyes… just hand him the money… hey, while you’re out there get your old man a Triple Chocolate Ice Cream Supreme Bar.”

Yeah, so I guess it hasn’t changed all that much.  The day the Ice Cream Trucks start  playing “Dueling Banjos” though… that’s the day us parents need to draw the line!

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