(A dream)
Every day, the ice cream truck would come down my street and I would meet it at the corner where it would park. There would always be a few kids there, but I never really took much notice. In my dream, this seemed to be my daily routine. I would climb into the truck to find the same scene every day. Inside this tiny little piece of crap ice cream truck was a spacious old bar, or, a better description would be one of those old soda fountain places like they used to have in the old days (like Ashe’s on the corner of Detroit Avenue and Fearing in my old neighborhood in Toledo). Inside this very cool and dimly lighted ice cream truck, the scene was always the same each day with Jim Leyland (manager of the Detroit Tigers) sitting behind the counter on a stool next to the old fashioned cash register and Bobby Cox (recently retired manager of the Atlanta Braves) sitting on a bench. Bobby would always be sitting on the bench in the same manner that he did for every Braves game for the past two decades. The bench was near the window where he gave out ice cream.
I would spend each evening watching the baseball game, or listening to one on the AM-FM radio, with Jim and Bobby, smoking and drinking beer. Sometimes I would chew tobacco instead, like Bobby does, for camaraderie on those particular days where the game of the night was a Braves game. There was never any discussion of any matter besides baseball, and very little of that. The only dialogue was a smattering of curses here and there or quick comments about a play or player performance. It was always about the game and never any small talk. It was perfect.
The only significant event I recall was one evening some kids came to the truck and Bobby got up to get them ice cream. There was a debate that ensued when one of the parents griped about the price of a bomb pop. Bobby told the guy he didn’t really give a shit if he bought the bomb pop or not and that he should hurry up because he was missing the game. He went on to tell the dad that he could shove the bomb pop up his ass for all he cared. That was when an umpire walked up and told us we were “outta here!” So, we had to drive the truck to a different neighborhood that evening.
One evening, just like all the others, I met the truck and sat down at my usual seat at the bar across from Jim as he filled me a beer from the tap without even taking his eyes off the TV and barely a greeting- as was always the case. For some reason, this evening I dropped a dollar, two dimes and a nickel into the cash drawer that happened to be open. I sat down and for the first time took notice of the old freezers with all the ice cream in them. I asked “are the screwballs the ones with the gum in them?” to which Jim replied, somewhat annoyed, “I don’t fuckin’ know… Bobby? Do screwballs have fuckin’ gum in ‘em?” to which Bobby replied, “yep.”
I thought that sounded pretty good for some reason and asked “How much are they?” to which Bobby replied “Shit, you can get about a hundred of ‘em for a dollar.” without looking at me. “Really? Are you exaggerating?” “No, I’m not exaggerating”, he replied with a hint of irritation at having to talk about business. “Cool, I’ll take a hundred of ‘em.” and then after further thought I asked “Can I get a hundred and twenty five since I put a buck and a quarter in the register?”
Everything suddenly changed with this question. They both looked at me with disappointment as I realized the improbability of my surreal setting for the first time. The magic was gone and I woke up.
So, I suppose the message here is never ruin a good thing by asking too many questions, getting greedy or making more out of it than it needs to be. Just enjoy the simplicity, the little things in life, and be happy with what you got.