The Iceman Cometh!

Ambling thro' the museum today an object caught my eye, Inviting me to pause and reminisce about a time gone by. 'Twas an old oaken icebox standing there on display. That ancient relic served as the family refrigerator in its day. I recollected that we had one like it when I was a tyke, Growing up on the Hoosier farm on fabled Farmer's Pike. It cooled the milk and cream and butter that Mom made, To spread on fresh-baked bread with a tad of marmalade! What a refreshing sight on a sweltering summer's day, To see the iceman's truck slowly meandering our way, Along Farmer's Pike, crystal-clear ice stacked on the truck, And anticipating a sliver of ice to chomp on and suck! Mom put a card in the window to show the amount of ice required. The iceman took note of this and delivered the ice desired. He'd carry a hundred-pound block of ice on his burly back, As nonchalantly as if toting feathers in a gunny sack! Iceboxes served their purpose and in museums they now repose. Once in awhile you'll find them at flea-markets and antique shows. Fancy refrigerators now cool the grub and make the ice. The iceman's logo I yet recall, "Iceman's Ice Is Twice As Nice!" Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)