OOGIE'S ICE CREAM

    I was so deep in thought last night that I figured I would put it into words. There are many tales to tell from an Ice Cream Truck, but since this is my first attempt at blogging, I thought I would start with a subject that is dear to me, my dad, Ralph, “Oogie” Montoro.

    Last night was a rainy, unseasonably cold evening in the Lehigh Valley. However, I had a party booked for the Daisy Troop #6244 in Allentown, off of Cedar Crest Boulevard, and they were not cancelling. Now, for any of you that have ever had the pleasure of doing a ride along in the Oogie Truck, you know that a dreary, windy drive up Route 22 at the end of rush hour is not the best seat in the house. Sometimes the headlights work, sometimes they don’t, usually the wipers work, but one can never be sure. And so it goes. The Daisy Troop had booked the popular “Double Dip” party package, which not only includes ice cream for 15, a website posting, gum & stickers, and all of the other “Single Dip” offerings, it also features two “Oogie” themed party games, headed up by Yours Truly and game prizes for the winners, which usually means for everyone in attendance. You can’t be too cut throat in the ice cream truck business. So as I putted along the highway at my top speed of 50 mph, my thoughts wandered to my dad, “Oogie”.

    He worked most of my childhood and adult life as a Route Salesman for Maier’s Bakery. The man never called in sick, his bread was always delivered, no matter what. Other than that, he liked to sleep on the couch, play cards, watch football and eat good food. We (our family) rented and ran ice cream trucks some 20+ years ago for extra money. I hated it as a teenager, but then what teenager likes work of any kind, especially when being forced into spending her summer days driving around in an ice cream truck. But, in hindsight, we always had a good time. Now the one thing my dad loved was attention, he would pick and tease and aggravate until he got it. All of the kids thought he was so cool. He would sing weird songs, scratch us with his razor stubble, repeatedly yell our names until we came in to change the TV channel, make up strange nicknames for our friends, and send us out late at night to get him “Knick-a-Knox” what he called snacks. He was a very loved and respected man, so much that when he passed away in 1995, we had over 500 people at his viewing to show their respects. So, you get the snapshot of Oogie Montoro. All of the kids loved him and he loved them, which is why, three years ago, I found it so fitting to christen my new ice cream truck business “Oogie’s Ice Cream” after my dad.

    Now back to the highway. As I approach the exit, I say a quick thank you prayer that I still have wipers and my thoughts shift back to the task at hand. I am just a few minutes away, so I make sure the music is ready and I have my little hammer to ring the bell upon arrival. I navigate my way up Walbert Avenue and find the church where Troop #6244’s final meeting of the year is being held. They said to pull around the back of the building. I crank up the tunes and start ringing the bell as I round the corner, there they are, jumping up and down, screaming at the top of their lungs, waving and cheering, I smile, wave back and pull up to them. Let the party begin! After everyone has their ice cream, we go inside to play the two games they have selected, “Ice Cream, Ice Cream, Sundae” Oogie’s version of Duck, Duck, Goose and “Oogie Says”, Simon Says to the rest of the world. The kids are really jacked up, so we start with Ice Cream, Ice Cream, Sundae. As I glance at the clock, I am getting a little nervous about the inevitable nightfall and my 13.5 mile trip home, I usually limit my travel to a ten mile radius, but have you ever tried to say “No” to the Girl Scouts? After a few rounds, we move onto Oogie Says. The kids really like this one and as they are being eliminated, I am letting them take turns coming up with the next action. This quickly got out of hand and at one point the entire Rec Center of this church was echoing with the giggling voices of little children screaming “Oogie Says”…. And I couldn’t stop smiling at the sea of faces. My dad would have been in his glory!

    Suddenly it didn’t seem so dark and dreary anymore and as I cruised home along the wet right lane of Route 22, being passed and splashed by every conceivable vehicle, I was happy that Daisy Troop #6244 didn’t cancel their party. I think I got more out of it than they did. This is the reason I started this business and got out of the tanking real estate rat race. Everyone is smiling and happy, including me! 

My dad would be so very proud.