Business a little slow for the travelin' ice cream man

“Do your ears hang low, do they wobble to and fro, can you tie them in a knot, can you tie them in a bow” and so on and so on. I recognized the tune right away even though the words were absent. My youngest son and I were minding our own business and pulling out of the grocery store parking lot when we heard him. A few moments later we were following him, desperately trying to get his attention. It was the ice cream man driving the ice cream truck. He only comes out during warm weather months, you know. And you have to live on a crowded street in at least a partial semblance of a neighborhood for him to visit you frequently. On top of that, you have to be at home when he happens by. And finally, you have to obtain access to some cash flow. We chased the ice cream man a few blocks and eventually followed him when he hung a left down a country road. With JT’s encouragement, I frantically waved my hand out of the truck window to get his attention. When the ice cream man pulled over to the right side of the road, JT and I let out a triumphant cheer. Armed with my wallet, we approached the right side of the ice cream man’s truck where we knew the sales window would be. We were greeted with a smile and a “What can I do for ya today?” Fortunately, the ice cream man’s prices were reasonable. JT picked out some sort of chocolate ice cream bar with crunchies- all resting on a wooden tongue depressor-looking stick. I chose not to partake due to a previous sugar binge earlier in the day. We asked the ice cream man how business was going. “It’s a little slow,” he admitted. We expressed our hope that business would pick up, thanked him for pulling over, and bade him farewell. Back in the truck a conversation ensued that involved speculation as to why the ice cream man’s sales were off the normal pace. I remarked that maybe it wasn’t hot enough and a heat wave might be good for business. Nine-year-old JT agreed that the weather might be partially to blame, but pointed out it was more likely due to “the tough economical times we’re living in now.” . . . From the mouths of babes. “In my day you could sit on the curb with a quarter and wait for the ice cream man,” I informed my son. “And sometimes when he left you would have a full belly and change leftover.” The child then made an offensive remark about how old I was but then requested that I tell him more stories from the old days. We had some time to kill before heading home. JT couldn’t show up holding a tongue depressor with a half eaten chocolate thing-a-ma-jiggy or his brothers would be driven insane with jealousy. And of course, I would be the villain. So we rode around for a bit while he enjoyed his treasure. And I shared with him a number of memories about the good ole’ days of my youth. And per his request, I intend to share some of those recollections with you, though it will have to wait until next week.