The epitome of optimism?

Here I am, sitting in my tiny living room listening to the patter of raindrops. I look out of the window at a grey Yorkshire sky, cloud troubled and missing any sign of the sun. I wonder if the weather will clear up any time soon, or if I need to bite the bullet and walk my dog in the constant downpour. And then......

I hear an entirely incongruous sound: the tinkling tune of an Ice-cream van, touting for trade, calling out with its music to the local children in the hope they'll buy Iced creams and lollies.

Is that the epitome of optimism? Or merely desperation?

DanaC wrote:

Is that the epitome of optimism? Or merely desperation?

Well, that depends. Is it a hot sort of rain?

edit to add: we have hot rain in Ohio all the time, so...I was thinking maybe other peoples are subjected to this unnatural atmospheric conundrum

...Yes, but it's a hot rain...
;)

footfootfoot wrote:

...Yes, but it's a hot rain...
;)

Are you being sexual????

*shakes fist*

'Coz if you are...

umm....Not hot rain......just rainy rain. Not freezing...but definately coat and hat weather. Mind you, I shouldn't be surprised. I've known our Icecream vans venture out when in sleet.

Brianna wrote:

Are you being sexual????

*shakes fist*

'Coz if you are...

When am I ever not being sexual?

footfootfoot wrote:

When am I ever not being sexual?

One likes to hope one can relate without resorting to...

...well, you know.

*ahem* BASE human Need!


croquet, anyone?*


*said in deference of our Brit superiors..tut, tut.

I guess if Seattleites can have "dry" rain, Ohio can have "hot" rain.

What better time to drive the tinkling bells than when the grubby little urchins are housebound? ;)

If you ever get a chance to talk to the sugar pusher, ask him how he makes out in nasty weather.
I've a feeling that the bells erase any weather thoughts in the kids heads. After all, they're programmed to crave at the sound of the bells, like Pavlov's dogs.
That coupled with Mom, being couped up in the house with the darlings, might be quicker to relent to their whining, than if they were begging from the yard.

Brianna wrote:

One likes to hope one can relate without resorting to...

...well, you know.

*ahem* BASE human Need!


croquet, anyone?*


*said in deference of our Brit superiors..tut, tut.

Well thank god I'm being scolded for that and not for being flippant and incessantly making jokes about things important to other people.

But if you really must know I was making an oblique reference to the oft quoted "but it's a dry heat"

So, how *are* things in the gutter?

xoxoxoBruce wrote:

What better time to drive the tinkling bells than when the grubby little urchins are housebound? ;)

If you ever get a chance to talk to the sugar pusher, ask him how he makes out in nasty weather.
I've a feeling that the bells erase any weather thoughts in the kids heads. After all, they're programmed to crave at the sound of the bells, like Pavlov's dogs.
That coupled with Mom, being couped up in the house with the darlings, might be quicker to relent to their whining, than if they were begging from the yard.

Despite his extraordinary vocabulary and language skills, the inchling has yet to put 2 and 2 together vis a vis the ice cream truck.

The facts:
He's had ice cream at home and once from the shop.
He knows that the vehicle which drives around mutilating various melodies is called an "ice cream truck"
He has a little "ice cream truck" truck
He does not know that the ice cream truck actually has any ice cream aboard
I'd prefer to keep it that way.
;)

*said in deference of our Brit superiors..tut, tut.

Quite right too.

He does not know that the ice cream truck actually has any ice cream aboard
I'd prefer to keep it that way.

If he ever catches on, just tell him what my Mum used to tell me: When they play the tune, that means they've run out of icecream!

DanaC wrote:

Quite right too.



If he ever catches on, just tell him what my Mum used to tell me: When they play the tune, that means they've run out of icecream!

your mom is a genius

Yep. That she is. We also used to have a little bottle of Holy water that gran brought back from Lourdes....Mum used to say she'd be able to tell if I was lying because the water would bubble :P

DanaC wrote:

Yep. That she is. We also used to have a little bottle of Holy water that gran brought back from Lourdes....Mum used to say she'd be able to tell if I was lying because the water would bubble :P

Did she keep it on the stove then?

hahahah Nope. She just used the power of headology. Actually, it kind of helped me come to the conclusion that there either wasn't a God, or he didn't really care about lies.

Mum wasn't particularly religious. I think it started as a joke.

Last time I saw an ice cream truck was a few days before I read in the paper they ( the gestapo) had busted it for dealing crack. But I still like ice cream.
I wondered why I never saw that truck anywhere but in the, *ahem* ....oh never mind.

capnhowdy wrote:

Last time I saw an ice cream truck was a few days before I read in the paper they ( the gestapo) had busted it for dealing crack. But I still like ice cream.
I wondered why I never saw that truck anywhere but in the, *ahem* ....oh never mind.

Tom Lehrer has a song about that:
"The Old Dope Peddler"

My father went to Lourdes...


It didn't help him physically, in that he was not cured and still died.

Yet, he felt better for going there.

My Mother, after he died, converted to his faith and still accepted the will of God when she was diagonisied with cancer and succumbed within a year of his passing.


She really wanted to be with him again.


Optimisim or........

Ah, ice cream trucks... Odd that I live in one of the hotter and drier countries on the planet and yet this place hasn't gotten around to ice cream trucks yet!

One of my fondest childhood memories from before I moved was hearing the sweet tinkle of the ice cream truck and begging my mother to go buy that bar with the chocolate inside... and hearing the loving reply:

"Go get a job and buy it with your own money!"

Jay. I went to Lourdes. My Gran took me and my mum there when I was 13 and very ill. It was the final nail in the coffin as far as belief went for me. I will never forget the procession of the sick; the little boy in our group wiith the hole in his heart; the brain damaged child and his lovely parents, who expressed sympathy to me and my mum, in the midst of their pain.

Those people, I believe, were sold a lie. A pretty, shining, glorious lie.

The 42 wrote:

Ah, ice cream trucks... Odd that I live in one of the hotter and drier countries on the planet and yet this place hasn't gotten around to ice cream trucks yet!

One of my fondest childhood memories from before I moved was hearing the sweet tinkle of the ice cream truck and begging my mother to go buy that bar with the chocolate inside... and hearing the loving reply:

"Go get a job and buy it with your own money!"

Nice! And welcome, btw.

Was that a Bill Forsythe movie, "Comfort and Joy" about the ice cream truck wars?

I loved that film. I remember the scene where the truck gets smashed by rivals and goes limping away with its music all warbly as striking a particularly funny note.

Once again we are on the same wavelength footer.

How about the moment when you see the guys actually recording the jingle!