Early on in the spring, after a long, lo0000000ng hard winter, - and spring being when Chicago hit a balmy 45 degrees ... nothing seemed more "spring-ish" than the ice cream truck playing it's merry little tune. So we, and every neighbor with in ear shot ... ran to the ice cream truck like it was the second coming of Jesus! "YES YES ... Hand me that stale snow cone ... doesn't matter ... we are in joy just to have the opportunity to buy year-old ice cream". Now fast forward 2 months. The Ice Cream man has become un-relentless. He's our stalker ... if we set foot in the front yard ... he's driving up the block with some crazy "one flew over the coo coo nest' organ tune that is so cult-like that it creates a mad dance on the sidewalk in all children under age 10.
Last Sunday, Chris and I decide that we need a change from our backyard. We pour a glass of red wine, open the garage for access to scooters and bikes for the boys and park ourselves on the front porch. We sit down and that mad mad ice cream truck music starts as if he's been waiting for us to emerge from hibernation. Jet and Charlie immediately start the "crazed" dance on the sidewalk. The words out of our mouths are, "Are you sh_tting me?". So the truck pulls in front of our house and stops. Chris stands up and yells, "Move on." The truck just stays ... playing it's music as the boys whip into a frenzied dance. Again, in a much louder voice, Chris yells, "GO, MOVE ON, WE'RE NOT BUYING!" .... more music ... increased hysteria on the sidewalk. Chris yells again, "BEAT IT >>> MOVE IT>>>" This time up on his feet and moving Chris moves with purpose towards the ice cream truck ... he moves 10 ft in front of in front of our neighbors house .... still playing it's sick cult music ... our boys all the more inspired. OK Chris is livid! He yells even louder ...." I TOLD YOU TO MOVE ON!" Now our neighbor has heard the commotion and has come out. The I.C. man opens his serving window and yells, "I've got a license ... I can sell anywhere!" To which Chris replies, "@*#@&#*" and Jet runs into the house saying to me, "Dad is so mean ... he's yelling at the Ice Cream Man!" (who ranks 3rd behind Santa and Grandma).
So the next morning - I have to congratulate Chris - he takes time out of his busy schedule to call village hall and ask what can be done about the Ice Cream Man. Basically nothing. He's licensed, he can sell as long as he's on the street and it's against village ordinance for him to play music .... WHAT .... yes that's right says the village manager, if you hear the music, you call the police, they'll cite the guy and we'll revoke his license.
Which leads my to last friday. I am upstairs and I hear the music one block over. I grab the phone .... I'm an American and I'm doing this for every parent in the Tri-state area ... I dial 9-1-1:
"9-1-1 What's your emergency?"
"uh uh, the ice cream truck ..."
"9-1-1, come again ... what is your emergency?"
"OK, the ice cream man has been stalking my family and the village manager told me to call the police when I heard his music. Did you know that it's against village ordinance for the ice cream man to pay his music?"
"Maam, Where is the Ice cream truck ... CAN YOU STILL SEE THE ICE CREAM TRUCK?"
"I think so I hear it on the block behind me". I want to add: by the way, I'm only 47 yrs ... I'm not old, crabby and deaf.
Then I realize ... God , I'm only 47 ... and I'm calling 9-1-1 on the ice cream man? Oh god, they are going to play my 9-1-1 call on Leno. I'm not old or deaf but I'm certainly crabby with a strong biased against the ice cream man!
I run outside to tell Chris that I've made the call to the police. Then I see the police cruiser going down the street in search of the music playing Ice Cream truck or maybe to check out the house of the crazy lady. I can hear the call now.
"Joe this is dispatch."
Joe munching on his dunkins
"Go ahead dispatch."
"Joe, can you check out Kensington Ave? We got a looney ballooney calling about the Ice Cream Truck Rock band. Just make sure "kensington crazy" is not dancing naked in the middle of the street"
"10-4 dispatch out".