Feel the Churn

Today is National Ice Cream Day. Which is actually sort of a let down because I thought EVERY day was National Ice Cream Day.

As Google points out, "National Ice Cream Day was designated to take place on the third Sunday in July by President Ronald Reagan in 1984. Many ice cream businesses and restaurants hold specials to observe the day."

I can eat as much ice cream as is placed in front of me. (As a diabetic, this may be a dubious distinction.) An ice cream shoppe monstrosity with ten scoops, a banana, pineapple, three different sauces, nuts, a mountain of whipped cream, and a maraschino cherry (where if you finish it, you get another one free), is no problem for me.

In fact, I have directed in my will that the following words be inscribed on my headstone:

Here Lies Steve

He Did Many Favors

But What Did Him In

Was Thirty-One Flavors

Ice cream refers to the hard-packed constellation of flavors available at grocery stores and retail outlets. Add to these choices the variety of toppings on the market and any gathering becomes an ice cream social.

Ice cream socials hearken back to a simpler time, when summer evenings centered around band concerts in the gazebo and picnic blankets spread out on the village green.

Ice cream takes the shape of floats, shakes, malts, cones, sundaes, parfaits, splits, cakes, pies and novelties. Purchase several flavors of syrups, chopped nuts, a can of crushed pineapple, whipped cream, which now comes in regular and chocolate, and a jar of Maraschino cherries.

And don't forget, for pure ice cream flavor, you can't beat homemade. Purchase any good hand-cranked or electric ice cream churn and follow manufacturers instructions and recipes. (If you remember hand-cranked churns, you'll get this. For many years, I avoided home made ice cream because the instructions called for 2 to 3 pounds of rock salt. Then I realized that the salt did not go in the ice cream.)

Ice cream, also, to mankind's great fortune, includes soft-serve. Or as I like to call it - ice cream that's had air pumped up its skirt. As a kid, I always much preferred our local soft-serve truck, for some reason named "Mr. Mustard," to the Good Humor man. Wahoo Bars just didn't do it for me.

When we bought a house, our sole criteria was it be located within 5 miles of the Dairy Joy restaurant. Dairy Joy is a local landmark, famous since the 1950s for their soft serve ice cream. My wife and I have been going there since we first started dating, and while they were growing up, we would often load our boys into the car for a drive out on a fine summer's evening.

Most recently we were there with our grandkids, and I got to watch the one-year-old take his first taste, smile from ear to ear, and open his mouth for more.

And as I get older, I see God's wisdom, in the fact that even if you lose all your teeth, you can still eat ice cream.