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Ahhhhhh . . . the Good Ol' Days

Y ou didn't get to see this guy at all in the Astoria projects where I spent a good deal of my formative years. I had to wait to go to school in the South Bronx for a Good Humor treat.That's right, the South Bronx. It was a Greek private school and we were bussed from all 5 boroughs.We spent hours on the bus.

There's a reason the hero in my book, Nickel Ice, is a Good Humor man. Nothing hit the spot more after a rough game of punch ball or Johnny Ride the Pony than a creamsicle.

The Good Humor guy always gave one of us a chance to help him hand out the ice cream to the kids in the schoolyard. He needed help because we were all behind a 10-foot fence topped with barbed wire and someone--preferably with small hands--needed to collect the nickels and pass the ice creams through the fence. It was the highlight of the day.Whoever helped got a free one.

Back then, the Good Humor guy was revered. White shirt, pressed pants, and a cap were standard. Sunglasses were optional, but it completed the picture. And the menu was always amazing--popsicles, sandwiches, cones, creamsicles, some ices and other goodies.

Though you probably have an ice cream guy that drives down your block, nothing will match the days when the sight of that white van would make a kid's heart almost jump out of their skin.

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