Audiobook - Patrick Collins

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before the day is finished, read by the author Patrick Collins. Excerpt number two pages, 76 to 81. A big event of any summer afternoon was the arrival of the ice cream truck. The good humor ice cream truck would come down our block and stop periodically where the ice cream man, all dressed in white, would get out and the kids would all line up, or at least those with money. I probably lined up once a week, but the arrival of the ice cream truck was still happening, even though I wasn't partaking. Here's why the cool guys on the block would jump on the truck. Is it pulled away? My block lowering place was flat until it got to about the middle, Then right about where I lived. It sharply descended downhill. About 150 yards to Fordham Road, where Lauren Place ended on the other side of Fordham Road was devote park, so lowering place was a one way street, going downhill to Fordham Road. Now Fordham Road was and still is a major road, which bisects the whole Bronx, going from the 207 street Bridge to the west and then to the east, where halfway across the Bronx have becomes Pelham Parkway and then on to Orchard Beach in City Island. To ride the ice cream truck all the way down to the light at Fordham Road was like staying on the bull the whole 15 seconds or whatever time is considered the best. Many of us kids would ride the truck holding on to the many knobs, freezer door handles and running boards. I guess the truck stopped one more time on the hill and then went the last 100 yards to the corner, stopping a delight at which time the ice cream man Herb would fain getting out of his truck coming after us and everyone would bail. My mother, having the wisdom that comes from being a supermom, always put the fear of God into me about never, ever writing the ice cream truck. But mom, everyone else does. That's when she would talk to me and complete sentences without ever unclench ing her teeth.