Thieves and socialists don’t make good businessmen. I learned this lesson, about myself, way back in 1966 at the tender age of seventeen.
My older brother was on his summer break from college, and it was my first summer in the last three that did not require me to attend summer school, so my father came up with the idea to put my brother and me in business. He believed that we could make money with a Mister Softee truck, selling ice cream to the hordes of children who would not be able to resist the obnoxious jingle, or the thought of sweet soft ice cream cooling them off, while running down their throats and faces.
The plan was simple enough. My dad would put up the necessary funds for us to rent the truck, and my brother and I would take turns driving our assigned route. We were taught how to mix the ice cream, run the register, nothing else, and off we went. Never mind that I had just received my driver’s license and that the truck was a beater with at least six inches of play in the steering wheel. Driving it was road roulette, and I don’t think I was legal to drive it at all.
As I weaved my way into the first neighborhood, I turned on the jingle from hell. Shrill and annoying, it was intended to make every dog in a five mile radius foam at the mouth. Children would then see the foam, think of ice cream, and hear the jingle. Most of them had money, and lines would form in anticipation of the gooey treat. I realized early on that I could not say no. There was one boy who looked to be about 6 who had large square freckles and curly hair. He never had enough money, but I couldn’t resist how cute he was so I would make him a cone or grab him something frozen. And it wasn’t just him. If a line formed I wanted everyone on that line to come away with something. I also liked to amuse myself by making contests. Who can tell me the Yankee score from last night? That kid got himself a free treat. How much is five times eight? Another cone. And while the cones were supposed to weigh so much, I didn’t give a shit and made them tall and proud. More than one set of eyes would get real big when I passed that monster through the window.
I became popular. Perhaps I was the softest Mister Softee of them all. Maybe it was an early indication of a generous heart, and a socialist mind set. I looked forward to seeing the munchkin with too few nickels and square freckles. To celebrate those square freckles I gave him free round sprinkles. I also ate my fair share of ice cream, and every Friday I would end my shift by yanking a few handfuls of change, so I could play poker or take my girlfriend to a movie. I suspect my brother was as generous to himself. Maybe even more so.
Three weeks into this venture my father did the books and discovered that we had not made a dime. Or at least that is what he told us. Maybe the last handful of change was scooped by my father. I do know he informed us that the business was closed, not at all aware of the loss freckle boy would feel. I didn’t really care that it was done. I also did not realize at the time that I was still a boy, not much older than the kids I was selling to. As monotonous as it was, it was still better than summer school.
© 2013 Michael Fiveson
http://gothamist.com/2009/03/27/mister_softee_truck_jingle_driving.php
Great story Mike – Sounds like a few good memories there 🙂
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Thanks Cowboy. Keep your great stuff coming!
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Oh! This makes me want to live back then. And be a professional ice cream lady (did they have ice cream ladies? Or was it just guys?) Keep these stories from the past coming! LOVE!
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What a wonderful story! I think I would have been a softie too… who can look in the eyes of children who perhaps only have a moment with an ice cream cone to look forward to? Great post!
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Thank you. I am still a softee only now they call me mr. old softee.
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My brother-in-law and a friend of our had a Mr. Softee truck.
They hated it sound of the music and hated kids. I think you can
guess how long they lasted. This story took me down memory lane.
Thanks for the ride.
Isadora
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Hated kids did they? LOL. Yeah, that would not be a good job for them.
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This is great stuff. You could easily expound on this. This would make great film. I really enjoy your writing and would like to see more my friend
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Thanks! Did you read Jesus and the $20 bill?
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I’m a little late to this post, however…
I grew up in Brooklyn, NY and fondly remember Mister Softee, Good Humor, and Carvel ice cream trucks rolling down our block north of Sheepshead Bay. Whenever we went to Brighton Beach, we would stop at one of the trucks for a cold treat that mostly ran down our sun bronzed arms as we struggled to keep up with the melting mass. Colored sprinkles were the best part!
Great memories!
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I was born very close to Sheepshead Bay in Brooklyn. Cool that you dropped by and I greatly appreciate the comment. Thank you.
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Reblogged this on Mike's Look at Life.
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Great story, Mike. Of course, now I need to go to the store and buy ice cream.
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Have an ice cream on me……get anything you want, and thanks.
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The compilation of memories like the one you narrated is what make us rich! It’s not only the money what counts. Good work my friend!
I treasure all the events in my life and I always feel like the richest man in the world! 🙂
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Thanks my friend.
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What a great story!
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Thanks!
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Wow , I never knew anyone who ran an ice cream truck business before!! That is rather cool, not to mention the way you made it fun for the kids.
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At least the kids had fun. Thanks.
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Cool story (pun intended) I’m looking forward to more of your writing…
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Ice cream sounds good. Thanks.
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Great story and post Mike. Ahh those were the days huh when you could drive those POS on the road, LOL. As Eddie Murphy would say “I have some iccee creeam”.
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Those were some days back in the day. Thanks Joe.
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Wonder where freckle boy is today? I’ll bet the tells the story of one summer when he made friends with Mr. Softie. How it was a magical 3 weeks!
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I fear that when I vanished and took my free ice cream with me, freckle boy became quite despondent and turned to petty thievery. He started small, with stealing ice cream but it escalated over time and eventually the lad did a short stint in a juvenile facility. The good news is that he did get himself together and married a girl with round freckles and pert breasts. He lives happily after with 3 grown children who bring him much joy.
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Love a happy ending!!! I mean really, who doesn’t hit a few bumps in the road?
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Again, I enjoy your writing. Your writing reminds me of Joe Bageant and since he is no longer with us maybe you can take up where he left off.
All the best,
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Thanks Leon, that is quite a nice thing to say.
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Love this story, Mike.
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That makes me happy Pat. Thanks.
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A big heart = a sound mind?
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I would like to think so. What do you think?
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Hmm… I thinks it awesome, remembering something over four decades ago is almost superhuman in weaving a story where people can read it.
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Well that is certainly more than I expected. Superhuman, eh? The problem is remembering what happened 4 hrs ago, the 4-5 decades ago is a piece of cake.
I do know this…..kindness is the easiest thing we can do. It takes no effort at all, and can change lives.
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So, I’m guessing that if you were to drive the ice cream truck around today, that you still wouldn’t make any money … though, not from swiping handfuls of change, but from handing out all the ice cream for free…. right? 🙂
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Absolutely, I would be the person I was at 17 and find it hard to say no to any kid with square freckles. What, you are short a dime? No problem, here you go kid.
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Once a socialist, always a socialist, huh? 🙂
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In my case, yes.
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That’s good to know … there’s hope that I won’t ever lose my own socialist tendencies then, as I get older….
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Or, you can stop getting older, like I did.
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ah, now there’s an idea…i’ll keep it in mind.
btw — like your new avatar photo. very handsome, if you don’t mind my saying so
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I don’t mind at all. Thank you John. That is me when I’m not stoned.
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ha! you’ll have to send me one of you stoned 🙂
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Great story! We had Good Humor. My brother drove one of the trucks. He might have made money if he hadn’t eaten all the ice cream. He gained 50 pounds that summer.
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HA! I ate ice cream too and all I wanted. Thanks Marilyn.
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Another great story, Mike. I thought Mister Softee was a Brits institution. The ice cream van still used to tour through our village when our kids were small and he always arrived just as we were starting a meal. Many a meal was ruined when there was a rush for the door and the carefully prepared meal went cold. Mister Softee’s arrival was more often than not greeted with an expletive deleted sentence or two – usually issuing from my wife’s mouth who had cooked!
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HA! I think, given how you let your kids eat ice cream instead of a home cooked meal, You might be the original Mister Softee!
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Another lovely story, keep it coming sir.
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Very nice, thank you.
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We don’t have ice cream trucks where I live. That would be so nice. but when we used to go camping in Galveston an ice cream guy would drive through the campground. I loved that sound! Nice story Mr Mike!! You’re quite a guy!
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Yes, I am one helluva guy! Wait, what I meant to say is that everyone deserves an ice cream guy, especially those living in humid climates like….Texas. And of course, thank you very much.
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I hope you write a book someday Mike! I really enjoy your stories!
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That’s a nice thing to say Michael. Thanks amigo.
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No problemo!
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What a great story, Mike. You’ve reminded me of that old Bennie Hill song, ‘Ernie’, who “drove the fastest milk cart in the West.” 🙂
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Thanks! Seems like another life time ago.
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It’s definite! We were separated at birth. No doubt about it!
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Great! I am assuming you would be my little brother, which bodes well for you because at Thanksgiving, when Judy, Pumpkin, and I arrive I will be bringing you an extra gift or two, and who knows….one of them might be a stuffed animal!
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Do I get a say in what type of gift?
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You sure do, What would you like, little brother?
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I’ll have to think! You know, I just remembered that for a day or to you were using a color photo of yourself but you’ve gone back to the b&w. This one’s more mysterious! I like it. Any reason why the switch to, and then back?
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I like that picture for facebook, but did not like it on WP. Just a change of heart and mind. I like being mysterious here.
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