Copyrights reserved by the author. If you are in doubt, please click on 'Copyrights' and read the details.Rights for Ice-cream By J. G. Fabiano I was in my office one Monday morning when someone was knocking at my door. It was a miracle I heard it because it was ever so faint. Opening the door I observed a young girl holding a clipboard filled with papers. The young lady with shiny blonde hair explained that she was asking people in our neighborhood to sign a petition allowing the ice-cream truck to come back. Come back? I thought. Not being a child anymore I never knew it left but it did. It seems that my town's board of selectman rescinded the license to sell ice-cream in an ice-cream truck. There was some sort of ordinance dating back to 1982 that prohibited people from selling food from vehicles in public areas. It seems that sometimes laws made to protect local businesses from competition forget about what made all of our childhoods and our old neighborhoods enjoyable. It wouldn't take long to search out a person who remembers listening for those ever familiar bells of the white truck that made our mouths water even before it was seen. The shiny white truck with the man wearing the remarkably white suit and white hat was a favorite part of all of all our summer days. I remember playing stickball during the heat of the summer just about ready to faint because it was the bottom of the 43rd inning and a loss would never be accepted. I also had to keep playing until I heard the bells of summer come around the corner so we could finally break up what we would start again only after the last of the ice cream was licked from our thumbs. A mad rush was always made by the entire neighborhood back to their homes so they could plead with their mothers for some money in order to buy what would become their favorite forever. Who could forget the strawberry shortcake on a stick that was covered with pinkish crumbs that mixed perfectly with the vanilla ice cream and strawberry flavored ice that was deep inside the pop? Remember the Good Humor people were the first to put a stick in ice-cream. Another favorite of mine was the chocolate éclair that exploded in your mouth. It was also covered by the same crumbs but these were brown in color and chocolate in taste. It is said that the strawberry shortcake and chocolate éclairs are opposites. This still makes no sense to me but certain things in life should never be questioned. One of the worse days of my young life was a day they ran out of chocolate éclairs. I had to settle for a toasted almond instead. It was still good but there is no way almonds can take the place of chocolate. The Cyclone was another favorite destined to become a favorite stain on my shirt. In fact, I am convinced after eating every flavor Cyclone and Popsicle the Good Humor truck had to offer I was one of the first people on Earth that had a tie-dye shirt. God, I wish I still had that shirt. The favorite of favorites was the Buried Treasure. This gooey slimy fruity colored ice covering vanilla ice cream was always fought over if the man in the white suit stated their were few left. He would let us pick our own because every one was different. At least that is what he told us. It was not that the pop was so tasty but rather it had a plastic stick instead of the normal wooden one. On the end of that red, blue, or green stick was a plastic treasure none of us could figure out what it was. But, we all knew it was a treasure and that after one ate and sometimes chipped a few teeth they would be the sole owner of what ever it was. Who could forget the swarms of kids from all over the neighborhood who ran to the truck after extorting their parents for the money to buy their favorite ice-cream treat? There was also a kind of caste system about who would be the first in line. It didn't matter if you got there first. People like Simon the Silencer and Becky the Beast would always push their way toward the truck with few of the others around the truck dare take offense by this. If a neighborhood kid ever coaxed their parents to go with them to the truck they were always served first, but this only happened to small kids. If a big kid ever asked and had his parents go with me to the ice-cream truck he would never be able to live it down. He would be burdened with the name of Little Jimmy for the rest of his life. Now that I think of it that was my nickname. Neighborhoods also had their own social order system. The ice-cream truck had to drive down certain roads that were in the center of certain neighborhoods. Now these nighborhoods were connected but they were also separated by where the stick ball or rag ball players came from. It was kind of like having separate little countries in one big neighborhood. I don't think I ever remember having one of our competitors show up when it was our time to enjoy the truck. So, I applaud this little fair-haired child and her friends and family for supporting the concept of changing the ordinance and allow the white ice-cream trucks to visit all the neighborhoods all over the world. I want my family to have the many memories that truck has to offer. The End.
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