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An American Summer

June 16, 2010

You know, I love holidays.

The first official day of summer is Monday but I wouldn’t normally consider that a holiday.  Holidays are accompanied by some sort of fanfare, good food, and friends.

The first day of Summer officially qualified today as a holiday in my book.  It met all the qualifications when this visitor arrived in my neighborhood.

I could hear the music from the ice cream truck while it was still blocks and blocks away.  I ran to my room to scrounge for a few dollars and rush outside in hopes that I might actually catch the ice cream man.

I waited patiently while hearing it get closer and closer.  It finally arrived  with that beautiful music quality that only an ice cream truck can have.  I watched as people, young and old, poured out of their homes with dollar bills in hand.  It was a regular neighborhood party in my driveway.  Bomb Pops, ice cream sandwiches, milk shake cups and many more choices.

I stood in my driveway, awash with nostalgia, eating my king-sized, ice cream snickers bar and thinking, “This is what summer in America is all about.”

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