I had a Dreamsicle the other day.
And it was good.
You know what a Dreamsicle is, of course, but what I’m talking about is the Dreamsicle of my youth.
I would walk up to Deb’s Place on a hot summer afternoon and lay my dime on the counter, that I could barely see over , by the way.
Tom Trent, the owner would look down at me and ask me. ‘OK Don what do you want for that shiny dime of yours?” He was always nice to me, Tom Trent.
He owned what was probably the most used “grocery store” that I ever went to.
It was just an “in town store” in most peoples books, but to us, in the Fairview Heights section of town, it was our main source of food, for most of our lives. You see, It was the place we went to buy those essentials of life, food!
Anyway, Tom was always nice to me, and I guess to the rest of the neighborhood, but to me, he was someone who “owned a business” and this impressed me and my young mind immensely.
Don’t get me wrong, my Dad worked for the Railroad, which was a pretty good job back then, but Tom owned his own business. For some reason, that impressed my young mind.
Anyway, it’s a lifelong secret of mine, but, I loved the taste of a Dreamsicle popsicle. I thought it was the closest you could get to “taste bud heaven”. That wonderful combination of Vanilla and Orange swirled together and on a stick, well, it was, as they say, “heavenly”.
I had saved some of my “errand cash” and as i pushed it across the counter to Tom I said; “I want a Dreamsicle”. Of course, he knew that already because, honestly, it’s the only thing I would spend my money on in Toms store, a hard frozen Dreamsicle.
Tom went over to the freezer and dug around in the bottom for a minute or so, and finally, an eternity later it seemed, he would stand up with my hearts desire in his hand, that wonderful, ice cold, frozen concoction called a Dreamsicle, in his hand.
Tom would bend over the counter, lie the Dreamsicle down in on the counter in front of me, smile crookedly and slide my Dreamsicle to me, and then ask me, as if I was a grown-up, “Will there be anything else, Sir?”
Already tearing the paper wrapper off of my prize, I would answer him; “No, that will be all, thank you!” as I walked out of his store, my tasty prize in hand.
Yes, I remember Dreamsicles.
And I remember when they were just Vanilla and Orange flavors, and I remember walking down a hot summer sidewalk trying to eat every drop of this delight, before it melted and ran down my hand.
Yeah! Dreamsicles were good. Actually, no, they were great. And, I was an innocent young boy with something special in my life, for those few moments, on that day.
Eating my Dreamsicle.
by Don Bobbitt, 2015
Copyright, Don Bobbitt, 2015, All Rights Reserved.