Why I Scream for Ice Cream
A friend of mine once claimed that if some totally off-the-chart, mentally deranged crime is committed it's more than likely a guy who did it. A guy from Florida, to be exact. A myopic viewpoint, to be sure. A perfect example of shortsightedness. Tunnel vision to the max. And yet, as I type in "Florida man" on Google I'm coming up with, "Florida man charged with attempted murder after road rage incident in Polk County", a quaint tale about a guy putting four bullet holes in a semi-truck (his own F-150 sporting a Punisher decal, associated with a Marvel character symbolizing vigilante justice) because he thought the guy was driving recklessly. Then there's "Florida man with meth in underwear tells deputy ‘there’s nothing wrong with drugs" where authorities "found 11 small, tied sandwich bags with a crystal-like substance in the front of his underwear" (he had 2 children in the car and enough face tattoos to make Jelly Roll look like a minimalist). Oh, and this: "A Florida man was arrested after driving a car into a group of protesters at a Tesla dealership" (yeah, no need to embellish).
Indeed, the Sunshine State does see a copious amount of crazy, unlawful acts perpetrated by its citizens but, truth be told, the place I've been living in the past three decades--California, the Golden State; southern Cal, to be exact--ain't chopped liver. That's right, we can hold our own in the demented lunatic fringe department 'cause when it comes to "Men Gone Wild" the home of gators and theme parks have nuthin' on us. So what gives? Why are we head and shoulders above the other forty-eight in excessive mental disorders? Certainly, population could be a determinant what with both territories being inhabited by 23+ million people. Likewise, the primal fear factor, they with their distress over impending hurricanes and us with our wariness over sudden earthquakes. And, who knows, perhaps all that mild weather with no winter hibernation--offering us a much-needed change of pace--is a sanity dealbreaker. Perhaps. But really, it's something else. Something so sinister it has its own background music... That's right, I'm talkin' the ice cream man.
The guy's audacious, performing his Pied Piper routine right out in broad daylight, coasting down the street so leisurely that even the athletically compromised three-year-old on her trike manages to keep pace. Armed with a beauty queen wave and a toothy smile, he pulls up to the curb, luring children in with the promise of sweet salvation in the form of nickel bags of designer confections that'll send them into a blissful sugar high the rest of the afternoon. It's a two-pronged effort, conning the kids out of their allowances while helping parents regain their sanity by coaxing them out of the last of their "mad money" to assuage their child's whining pleas. It's a snake oil salesman's ploy and it works like a charm, day after day and yet, you're probably wondering, what the hell does this have to do with crazy felonious men grabbing the headlines?... I did mention the sinister background music, didn't I?
It's menacing, those eerie, other-worldly chimes emanating from those tinny speakers, the musical selection's opening salvo--a ridiculous assortment of non-sequiturs--specifically designed to bewilder from the get-go. "Turkey in the Straw", a gibberish tune, followed by "The Streets of Laredo", a morbid number about a dying cowboy. And then suddenly "Someone's in the Kitchen with Dinah" just before "The Gang's All Here" gives way to "Deck the Halls" and "Jingle Bells"... in April! "Skip to My Lou" makes the scene 'cause it just makes perfect sense, right? And while we're at it here's some "Yes We Have No Bananas" (ya know, in case you were wondering), leading into "Pop Goes the Weasel" and then the "Theme From Love Story" (are you kidding me?) And, of course, "Do You Know the Way to San Jose" (I don't) teams up with "O Come All Ye Faithful" and "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer". Again, people, it's April!! And all this is just the tip of the iceberg, the truck continuing to sit there right outside my window, seemingly forever, emitting one mind-numbing tune after another.
Granted, while our huge populations, coupled with the mental toll of possible earthquakes and hurricanes constantly lurking, may play into why we see SoCal and Florida men garner more than their share of unwanted notoriety from the press, it's the combination of our blessed mild climates allowing for the ice cream man--and his mind-bending musical portfolio--to visit our neighborhood 12 months, 52 weeks, 365 days a year that puts us over the edge. Without getting that much-needed winter break from this deceptively devilish deejay we're all just walking time bombs waiting to go off... So, do me a favor, the next time you catch a headline that reads, "SoCal man goes on wild rampage, crooning a non-stop version of 'Turkey in the Straw' while force-feeding a handcuffed ice cream truck driver his inventory resulting in multiple brain freezes" try to have a little empathy and not judge me too harshly.