I was walking close to the road today. No, I am not a wanderer, or a gypsy, or a hitchhiker. (I had to get the mail.) I looked down and noticed something I hadn’t seen in years. It was an orange push up container. The ice cream in it was of course, gone–but there it was. My childhood–laying on the road in the middle of Michigan. You remember don’t you? Outside playing capture the flag or baseball and suddenly, you hear it. The sweet sound of the Ice Cream truck riding through the neighborhood. You race to your house, grab whatever change you can find then sprint to the powder blue truck. The nice man with 5 teeth asks what you want. You are faced with the decision of a lifetime. A bomb pop? One of those plastic cones with ice cream and a gumball at the bottom?
No–you want ol’ reliable. The sweet taste of an orange sherbet in a container that YOU can control. You have the power to determine the ice cream distribution–even at a young age. True independence is just around the corner. Today it’s an orange push up, tomorrow your first car and fast women….but I digress.
I love it when you see something out of the blue, in a place you never expected to see anything at all and it brings back a fond memory. Triggers, when they bring on something positive, can be so much fun.
Of course, every once in awhile I’ll pass the fish counter at the market, or smell my garbage can the day after my leftover salmon has been tossed in the trash. That smell will forever remind me of Corpus Christi, Texas. The lovely scent of fish, oil and sweat all rolled into one. Corpus Christi. I spent a week there one day. Chalk that up as a negative trigger, indeed!
I miss the ice cream man. I miss those old trucks with the loud music. I miss snow cones and fudge bars. I know–I can go to the store and find most of that anytime I want, but it’s just not the same. Some things are meant only for the innocence of childhood. It’s funny how an old wrapper on the road reminded me of that.