An ice cream cone can solve any problem— even if it’s only for a few minutes. Anonymous
Things Are Not Always What They Seem
by Alexander Green

I was driving along Route 250 when my seven-year-old, David, spotted Kohr Brothers, his favorite ice cream shop.

"Dad," he shouted, "let's stop for a cone!"
It wasn't the worst idea I'd heard all day. I pulled in.
We got the usual - two vanilla cones - and grabbed our favorite spot, the bench just outside the front door.
As we sat there, two attractive young women walked up and I said hello as they opened the door. They were busy talking and didn't notice.
Ah, I thought to myself, twenty years ago they might have noticed, but not today. Back then one might have nudged the other, a brief signal, a silent recognition. But not any more, I thought, a tad wistful. Too many summers had passed.
Just then, one of David's classmates and his father approached us from the parking lot. My son and his buddy quickly disappeared inside. I stood chatting with the father for several minutes, shooting the breeze.
A few minutes later, my ice cream was melting faster than the glaciers in Glacier Bay. By the time his friend's dad turned to go inside, the cone itself was disintegrating.

“Age does not diminish the extreme disappointment of having a scoop of ice cream fall from the cone.”
 Jim Fiebig quote
I took a couple frantic bites but it was too late. The whole thing was coming apart in my hand. An opportunity lost, I tossed the sticky mess into the trash can beside me.
I don't cry over spilt milk, but a fallen scoop of ice cream is enough to ruin my whole day.  Terri Guillemets
As I wiped my hands, the two young women came out of the shop with their
cones and glanced in my direction. But they didn't just look once. They
did a double take - both of them - turned and smiled broadly to each
other, then continued into the parking lot.
My spirits lifted
immediately. This was new. These women hadn't just looked my way. They
had looked twice - then broken into big smiles. I reviewed the scene in
my mind. Yes, they had definitely smiled.
Maybe the old magic is still there, I thought. Maybe I still have it.
Just then my son walked out of the shop, looked up and shouted, "Dad!"
"What?" I said, taken aback by his tone.
He put his hands on his hips. "You have ice cream all over your nose."
Pride goeth before the fall.

Carpe Diem,

Alex

Life is like an ice-cream cone, you have to lick it one day at a time.
Charles M. Schulz

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Peter Lind, Flavor Development Specialist
Ben & Jerry's Ice Cream, Waterbury, Vermont

The man behind Chunky Monkey and Cherry Garcia is a former chef, baker, and caterer with sensitive taste buds and an enviable cholesterol count of 168. To keep it so low, he avoids eggs and has cut down on cheese and red meat. Still, his job requires him to taste ice cream, he said, and "some of it sticks." When we talked to Peter, he was trying to crack the problem of making Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough -- a hit in sample tastings -- in commercial quantities. "We can make it ten gallons at a time without difficulty, but the quality slips when we try to produce more," he said, before he headed back to the laboratory. The hardest part of his job is dealing with people who send him ideas for new flavors. "Someone recently suggested Chilly Chili -- vanilla ice cream with chili powder," he said. "The scary part is, I think she was serious."

I want his job! Ana

Life is like ice cream, enjoy it before it melts
Everyone likes pie. But people like pie a la mode even better. In the pie of life, arts is the ice cream.
Peter Krause