You can't buy happiness -- but you can buy ice cream

Nothing quite screams summer like ice cream – the sweet and creamy frozen milk confection whose earliest form dates back to China’s Tang Dynasty between 618 and 907 A.D.

July is “National Ice Cream Month” in the United States – not surprising since it’s the cool treats busiest production time of the year, though the average American eats it all four seasons – to the tune of a cool 23 pounds over the course of 12 months.

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Historically popular with children and adults alike, it’s a $62 billion annual global industry with $11 billion spent in the U.S., directly employing 26,000 people with wages totaling in excess of $1.6 billion.

I don’t think I’ll ever look at my favorite cookies ‘n cream waffle cone the same way again.

Barring an allergy, dietary prohibition or general dislike for the world’s best dessert, almost everybody has an ice cream story.

Some of my earliest memories revolve around trips to Carvel – a soft-serve ice cream store founded in New York back in 1929.

Its owner, Tom Carvel, insisted on doing all the advertisements himself. I can still hear his distinctive old-man voice promoting “Fudgie the Whale” cakes for “a whale of a dad” on Father’s Day.

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In fact, my Carvel memories are so old that I recall I couldn’t pronounce “sp” – so instead of asking for “sprinkles and a spoon” – code for ice cream in a cup rather than in a cone, I’d ask for “binkles and a boon.”

My siblings ragged on me for years about that one.

According Jeff Tonberg, co-owner of Whitey’s Ice Cream, a longtime family business with stores throughout Illinois and Iowa, the popular frozen treat is the kind of product that can transcend economic swings of fortune.

“Even when times are tough, people will splurge and enjoy an ice cream,” he said. “It’s a small but wonderful pleasure.”

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I think he’s right.

In the volatile, protest-laced COVID-19 summer of 2020, where disagreements abound and unemployment is at unprecedented levels due to shutdowns, perhaps we might find bipartisan and egalitarian support for the simple joys of an ice cream cone, shake or sundae.

Carvel wasn’t the only source of childhood ice cream memories back on Long Island.

Right down our street stood Friendly’s, a stately redbrick restaurant that was a popular place to go post-Little League game or following a movie with friends.

My grandmother used to bring us there when she came to visit from Jersey City. She loved their black raspberry and coffee flavors.

I’m a little ashamed to admit this, but I recall inadvertently slamming the car door on her frail hand as we headed inside. She hollered – and I cried – but only because we had to go to see Dr. Yannelli, thwarting our trip for ice cream.

She said she liked Friendly’s but preferred Schrafft’s brand – an ice cream produced by a candy company in Massachusetts dating back to 1861.

One town over from my hometown of Baldwin there was Jahn’s – a legendary ice cream parlor known for its gigantic “Kitchen Sink Sundae” – 14 flavors (28 scoops) with fudge and caramel sauces, bananas, pineapple and nuts – topped with whipped cream.

Started by John Jahn in the Bronx in 1897, my father used to rave about trips there with his friends while growing up in Brooklyn in the 1930s and ‘40s.

“All my troubles seemed to fade away inside that store,” he once told me, sounding a bit like Norm or Cliff sitting at the bar on the television show, Cheers.

Never once did my dad talk about how delicious the ice cream was – but he always remembered who he was with and what they were celebrating while they ate it.

Last summer, my family and I enjoyed a wonderful week on Rangeley Lake in Maine. It was a nostalgic trip for me because I had grown up going there with my family decades ago, but hadn’t been back since. It was fun showing our boys around and introducing them to the area’s charm and beauty.

Throughout the week, we indulged on Gifford’s Family Ice Cream, a local confection dating back to the 1800s. I’ve eaten a lot of ice cream between childhood and now, but the uniqueness of the flavors along with all the memories came rushing back with the first scoop.

I only wished I could have stopped at Howard Johnson’s on the way back home to Colorado to sample one of their 28 original ice cream flavors.

There’s less than one week left in National Ice Cream Month, so I’d encourage you to do your patriotic duty and do your part to celebrate. From Blue Bell to Breyers and all the local shops and brands in between, there are plenty options – and don’t scrimp either.

In the end, I agree with the great comedian Brian Regan who once said, “I think the serving size of ice cream is when you hear the spoon hit the bottom of the container.”

Paul J. Batura is a writer and the author of seven books, including, “GOOD DAY! The Paul Harvey Story.” He can be reached on Twitter @PaulBatura or by email at Paul@PaulBatura.com.

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