Stalking The Good Humor Man

When we were kids on Ravinia Drive, no matter how loud things were or what we where doing, we could hear the faint ding, ding, ding of the Good Humor ice cream man long before he even got to our street. That's when we would run to Mom and pester her until she gave us a few cents. If she gave us at least a nickel we would run out and sit on the curb in anticipation, all the while clenching that cash in our sweaty little hands. Five cents bought you a lot in the 1950s. Of course, if somehow you came up with more than a nickel, you wouldn't have to settle for the plain ice cream bar. You could buy yourself a chocolate eclair, or strawberry shortcake on a stick. Most of the time the Good Humor truck was driven by a good looking college boy, as a summer job. This of course caused all the girls in the neighborhood to flock to the ice cream truck like pigeons to bread crumbs, and made it difficult for the rest of us to get close enough to put in our order. It would be neat if the Good Humor Man still came around, especially if the truck were driven by a good looking college boy. I would be out there every afternoon waiting for him. The only problem is that I'd have to explain to Mark why I was eating so much ice cream.