The Ice-cream Has Melted

Remember when you were a kid and you used to tear ass out of the house to answer the hypnotic call of the Ice-cream Man? After the sadist (and part time heroin addict) made you ran for half a block you finally arrived at the side of a converted van to request over priced ice-cream and candy via faded hieroglyphics that were once pictures of tasty treats.

 

Ok, so my rose colored glasses may need a re-tinting, but needless to say I have a clear memory of the trucks as do we all.

 

My recollection of the trucks is primarily from the mid 80’s, when I was old enough to get (take) money from my mom to hunt down the trucks, but even back then they looked pretty beat.

 

Today on my way to work I saw something that kind of made me pause (and driving through an intersection while doing a nostalgic pause is never a good idea.) The truck I saw was just that a truck, no wait, the word “truck” doesn’t cut it on this one. It looked like a mommy and daddy FedEx truck did their “special hug”, then made a trip to the clinic, had it aborted, and someone decided to sell ice cream out of it.

 

The sides of the truck had no distinguishable markings of an ice-cream truck. Where before the pictures you “ordered” from were stickers, these were what I could only guess as photo copies adhered with packing tape. Piles of “fun-dip” littered the dashboard, some so bleached by the sun I can only assume the sugar that was once inside had already evolved (and was possibly driving the truck.) the truck looked dirty, disgustingly dirty, hell it’s was as filthier than Christina Aguilera’s tampon (providing she uses one.)

 

As I watched this dysentery delivery system I couldn’t figure it out. Perhaps these are the thoughts that keep people like me from driving said trucks but wouldn’t:

1. a clean truck attract more people?
2. better pictures sell more product?
3. you at least try to hide how creepy you are?

 

Back in the 1950’s (when gas stations still did full service) we’re these guys rolling around in a truck that glinted in the sun with white suits and a advice for troubled kids with skinned knees?

 

Yeesh, at the rate the quality of the ice-cream trucks are going down how do they expect to lure kids into the back of the truck for the “special ice-cream”?

 

 

*moral of this rambling-story- Walnuts.

 

Exile

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