The Ice Cream Man Cometh In North Minneapolis (Summer Visitation 2009)

Photos By John Hoff

Ice cream trucks do not work the streets in my son's affluent suburb. During our first few days of summer visitation in North Minneapolis, when an ice cream truck cruised past, slowly, my son watched with confusion and just a little bit of trepidation. 

Was this one of those adult predators he'd heard about in health class?

I said to my son, "Oh, it's the ice cream man! Let's get ice cream."

My son informed me that he wasn't in the mood for ice cream and, really, why would I buy something BEING SOLD OUT OF A VAN?

I blinked at my son, confused. I informed him he had been raised by suburban space aliens. THAT'S THE ICE CREAM MAN! I said. Don't you get it? THE ICE CREAM MAN!!! You're supposed to freak out and beg me for a dollar...

I bought an ice cream bar shaped like Batman's head, with two white gum balls for eyes. My son didn't want it, so I ate it, but he did pose for a picture.

A few days later, I was at Peter Teachout's house--chair of the Hawthorne Neighborhood--doing nine hours of pulling out staples from an old stairwell. My son came running up to me.

"THE ICE CREAM MAN IS OUTSIDE!!!!" he said, and he wanted a Push-Up bar, immediately.

Thank god, I thought. My son is normal, after all.