The wonderful Mr. Softee


A couple weeks ago we had a break in the cold weather that seemed like it would never go away. It was amazing how great it is when that warm spring airs starts to infect everybody with that I can’t go home disease. I of course  had to muster up all the willpower I had to enter my home and work on writing that had to be done. As I sat and attempted to work, I heard the Mr. Softee truck passing by. (Well it might not have been Mr. Softee exactly but one of his bootleg counterparts.) After a couple minutes I noticed I was bobbing my head to the music. Funny it actually put me in a better mood even though I was stuck inside and had to work. But just hearing the song brought back all kinds of funny memories from being a kid. Like when you heard the truck and wanted ice cream but had no money. So you had to decide between stopping the truck or finding your parents to give you money. Usually you kind of ended up looking like a dog chasing after it’s own tail. But hey you’re seven so you don’t care what you look like. You just know you need to stop that guy and get money all before he passes your block by because nobody looks like they’re buying. It also just really signifies the end of school, longer days, and all the wonderful other things that come along with summer.

As I sat there bobbing my head it occured to me that even though I was seemingly so happy to hear the magical call of Mr. Softee, it probably wouldn’t last that long. I suddenly had the memory of just last year when one decided to park outside my house for twenty minutes and I almost ran out of the house with a machete ready to chop his head off if he didn’t move. In all fairness to myself, twenty minutes of that song will drive even the most gentle person to violent behavior. However, I have to admit there have been times where my blood started to boil the instant I heard that song. Actually, to be completely honest I’m not sure when the last time hearing that song actually made me happy. For a long time I considered a public nusance. Maybe it’s just the overexposure that gets to me or I just forgot how to appreciate the little things that so easily made me happy as a kid. Well either way I guess the only thing I can do is try to learn to appreciate it now. God knows I’d probaby be disappointed if I never heard that song again. I’m just hoping I remember to keep that in mind the next time I start contemplating chopping into Mr. Softees neck.

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