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Post by artraveler on Aug 31, 2023 6:04:36 GMT -8
Good Humor Man
Almost 70 years ago. My father had returned from Korea, and we had moved down the hill to San Bernadino. The neighborhood we moved into was middle class, with a mix of civil service and blue-collar employees. For the kids, we had free range in the summertime. The only rule we all followed was home when the streetlights come on. Summer was a marvelous time for us. One of the greatest thrills was the afternoon jingle of the Good Humor Man.
Our summer were spent exploring the neighborhood, sitting under eucalyptus trees, flying kites, bike riding, swimming at the Parris Hill pool. And joy of joys waiting for the ice cream man. In the late afternoon we could hear the happy sounds of the truck blocks away and groups of kids would charge their house, like an army, seeking change for the treats. In those halcyon days you could buy ice cream bars for 5-15 cents.
We lived about halfway down the block. My friends and I would gather in anxious anticipation of the goodies to be presented when the truck stopped. We were excited as other children and often a few adults joined and formed a que. From a block away we could see the white truck. He stops for another small group of customers and we all silently urged the customers he stopped for to hurry. Anticipation builds with the music as the Good Humor Man approaches.
He stops, with music ringing in our ears we wait in line for him to open shop. In those days the ice cream man was a near demi-god to the kids. He drove a magical truck, played music you could hear for blocks and dispensed frozen goodies in copious amounts.
He gets out of the truck. Dressed all in white with a cap. He stands next to one of the truck windows and the first kid asks for his favorite. He opens the door, and a cloud of cold air rolls out, reaching in, he gathers the choice and exchanges it for coin. The kids eyes light up and an ahhh arises from the line of kids and adults waiting for their choice. We made our choices chocolate bars, push-up, drumsticks and the like the line shrinks as everyone goes away to eat their frozen choice. The adults go back into houses leaving the kids to enjoy in kid heaven. The kids little understand that the adults, their mothers, and fathers are savoring the treat in the same manner as they.
Today, some 2000 miles away we still hear the ice cream truck. The truck is bigger, the music louder and I suppose for some areas of Fayetteville the kid born excitement is still there. Our neighborhood doesn’t see this truck often. Ours is mostly older people. We spend our summer days going from air conditioned to air conditioned. If we are outside for extended periods, it is more likely either a family reunion, or a funeral. And the Good Humor Man is gone. The smiley guy in a white uniform has been replaced with a surly dude with long hair, Grateful Dead T-shirt and dirty jeans. The magic is gone.
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kungfuzu
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Post by kungfuzu on Aug 31, 2023 8:52:18 GMT -8
I have not heard such a truck once this summer. Over the last five-or-so years, I doubt that I heard, or saw, an Ice Cream truck in our area more than ten times. (Probably five) Sadly, those days are gone.
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Brad Nelson
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Post by Brad Nelson on Sept 2, 2023 8:28:00 GMT -8
What a splendidly written memory of those halcyon days indeed. Oh, the irony. I remember they used to have the "rainbow" popsicles. I think the colors were blue, yellow, and red. There may have been a blue/white/red one as well. I forget the flavors associated with each color. Some, at least, were two-stick popsicles. I know some of them had at least two sticks because you could break them apart and share them with a friend – vaguely as pictured below , although when Googling all I could find were homosexual-themed "rainbow" popsicles...which is exactly making my point (your point) about the Good Humor man perhaps not not so good in humor anymore.  Even though you were at the bottom of the country and I was at the top, the experiences transcended geography. Yes, we'd hear that tune and make a mad-dash for our parents (for money) or for our own stash of money if we had any saved from our "allowance." It sometimes amazing that no one got hurt as we dashed for the loot like a horse bolting from the starting gate at Churchill Downs. I haven't heard the ice cream truck in years. We had a long, hot summer this year but not once did I hear the bells of icy refreshment. Ahh...drumsticks. Those are still good. I used to favor the two (or three) flavored popsicles. I was part of "the rainbow coalition" when it had nothing to do with perverts. Although I almost never eat a banana-flavored anything – then or since – I know I particularly loved the banana-flavored sections of those multi-flavored "rainbow" popsicles. Don't look too deeply into that, Dr. Freud. Low-calorie fudgesicles are what I occasionally indulge in these days. But I really should get a drumstick for old time's sake. |
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Post by kungfuzu on Sept 3, 2023 11:35:02 GMT -8
The pervs debase everything they touch. A rainbow has wonderful connotations. A pot of gold at its end. Peace, etc. The word gay was one which meant a lighthearted feeling. Happy without care. Now if one looks it up in a dictionary the definition will say queer.
This goes back to the point about honesty in words and speech.
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Brad Nelson
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Post by Brad Nelson on Dec 23, 2023 17:56:42 GMT -8
My grandfather had a number of jobs in his career. One of them was driving for Carnation.  Original ImageI borrowed this image from my cousin tonight. Some of us got together for a little all-guy (ever heard of such a thing!) night where we watched some old slides. I immediately thought this would make a good print, whether this was one's grandfather or not. With the necessary and fussy photo enhancement, I thought it turned our pretty well. When you actually scan these old slides, they really come to life. You just don't see even a quarter of the detail or vibrancy via normal projection. As we know from high definition prints made from old movie films, there's an enormous amount of detail in the film, even in the relatively small format of 35mm. If you follow the "original size" link , it will take you to an lossless tiff image at 3200 dpi. I downsized it a bit from the original 6400 dpi of the original scan. I've promised to make my cousin a print of it and I plan to make a poster-sized print of it for myself. Grandfather was near enough a Good Humor man, I suppose. |
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Post by kungfuzu on Dec 23, 2023 18:20:12 GMT -8
I can remember having milk delivered to our home until I was about 10 or so. Glass bottles.
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Post by Brad Nelson on Dec 23, 2023 18:24:03 GMT -8
And my best guess is that his route was in or around Port Orchard (near Bremerton). But I'll have to double-check on that.
Most of the family stories I don't know about. But grandpa was apparently a bit of a naught boy at times. That's not news. I think most men have checkered pasts, at least to some extent. But he was good to us. He just seemed like a lonely man. But in his time, he was a capable man. I believe that life just tends to wear you down.
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Post by artraveler on Dec 25, 2023 9:27:15 GMT -8
When In was very young we lived in Big Bear CA. On the main road going out of Big Bear City there was a nasty S turn. On a winter morning in about 1952 the Carnation truck skidded on ice and crashed on a large bolder. It was known in BB lore as the place the milk truck crashed. Last time I was there about 82 there was stillk broken glass on the rock. I remember that carnation also delived ice cream, so your grandfather could also be considered a good humor man.
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Post by Brad Nelson on Dec 25, 2023 9:41:47 GMT -8
An interesting story.
Grandpa came from good farming stock in North Dakota. Story is (and I didn't hear this story until I was in my 50's), at some point he left his wife and kids and chased some woman to Seattle, or the general area. Later, the wife and kids caught up to him and they got back together. How many untold stories are there in the naked city, as they say? It would have been great if someone would have written them down, warts and all. There's just so many juicy stories hidden away. As they say, be careful before you go chasing down your DNA ancestry. You could be surprised. Grandpa was an entrepreneur. My father had the same bug. They tried a lot of things. And none of them set them on the path of being a mega-millionaire. But that's America. It gave everyone an almost equal chance to fail at a variety of things...or to succeed partially, if you wish to see the glass half full, and you probably should. I believe that grandpa worked in the Navy Yard during the war. But before that I know he had (for a time) a bowling alley. And he also ran and owned a small greasy-spoon restaurant. Grass didn't grown under his feet. And I wish I knew what else he did. Many stories and secrets have gone to the grave. But he used to regale us often with PG-rated stories of life on the farm. For those living in a modern city, this was like someone telling what it was like to live on Mars. Merry Christmas Day. |
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Post by kungfuzu on Dec 25, 2023 13:49:41 GMT -8
I visited Big Bear Lake in January of 1982. A German friend and I drove from Dallas to Los Angeles in order to have a look at the American Southwest. We took ten or eleven days to do it and saw a lot of wonderful sights. We rented some apartment in the village, which catered to the ski crowd. We went to a restaurant/bar to eat and watch the Cowboys/49ers playoff game. As one might imagine, we were the only people in the place rooting for the Cowboys and things were looking pretty good until Dwight Clark made that unbelievable catch with less than a minute to play. |
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Post by Brad Nelson on Dec 25, 2023 15:15:22 GMT -8
The Catch. I tell this story often. But I remember watching Montana in a bowl game with Notre Dame. I'd never head of the guy before. And you'll never mistake me for a Pro scout. But I was flabbergasted by the talent I saw. I remember thinking that he truly was something special. And then I probably didn't think about him again until years later when he became a most improbable (by NFL draft position standards) star.
I think Tom Brady is a great quarterback. But let's hold our horses before anointing anyone as "best ever" without consulting the Montana files.
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Post by kungfuzu on Dec 25, 2023 15:35:45 GMT -8
My father thought highly of Montana. He criticized the Cowboys by saying they had the chance to draft him, but didn't.
I thought San Francisco wrong to replace Montana with Steve Young but that's football.
Another quarterback who I think ranks toward the top, but is rarely discussed these days is Dan Marino. That guy could throw the ball.
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Post by Brad Nelson on Dec 25, 2023 16:18:10 GMT -8
I can't argue against Dan Marino. There are a few somewhat overlooked quarterbacks because they didn't win the Super Bowl. I think Dan Fouts is one of those. He was a little gimpy in his later years, but he could throw the ball.
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Post by kungfuzu on Dec 25, 2023 17:37:04 GMT -8
You've got me reminiscing. I got to go to the Texas/OU game in 1969 which was the year Steve Owens won the Heisman. I was a big fan of Owens.
Then I got to go to the Texas-Notre Dame Cotton Bowl in 1970, which was the first bowl game Notre Dame had played in many years.
Honestly, I don't remember much about either game. For that matter, I don't remember that much about the 1982 Cotton Bowl game between Texas and Alabama except it was low scoring, Texas won and my friend and I, the same guy who drove with me from Dallas to L.A., were rooting for Texas, but were sitting in the Alabama section because we got the tickets from my cousin who had driven in from Alabama with the son of one of the Alabama coaches.
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