Editor:
Someone recently wrote to the local paper complaining of the noise made by the ice cream truck!
At 93, I can no longer run out to the curb at the lilting sound of music from the ice cream truck. However, it does make me feel like a bud that has just burst into flower.
When I was a small child living in another city, street vendors were common. The “Banana Man,” the “Rag Man,” whose bushy beard scared me into the house and best of all was the “Hulled Corn Man.” He ladled portions of the corn into our bowls and we ate it while it was hot with thick cream. Alas, hulled corn is available no more.
Don’t deny kids the excitement of the ice cream man. In this troubled world he gives us a sense of permanence. His product may not measure up to superior brands of ice cream, but it still tastes better because of the circumstances in which it is consumed.
Beatrice Comas
South Portland