Ice Cream Diaries -14 January 28, 2005

Hello again from Easthampton, just south of the Artic circle. The winter was playing nice until just a few days ago, when wham! (the onomatopoeia not the bad 80’s band) blast freezer cold, snow, ice, and our first Nor’Easta of the season. The snowy lining is that as the thermometer dips and customers retreat to their couches, it gives me some alone time with the dairy diary. I know it’s been a while, and you’re probably wondering what my excuse is this time, especially since it’s officially the ‘slow season’. I’m going to go with Christmas and winter vacation for the block. Let me catch you up. Had a great holiday run. The shop was full of Santa’s elves right up until about 6 p.m. Christmas Eve when I did my last, ‘They’re not closing the Bailey’s Savings and Loan today!’ ceremonial locking of the big wooden front door, and toasted a big glass of apartment red. As I sat alone in the shop for a few minutes, I savored the feeling of having just completed my first full year in biz. I was tired and a little frazzled, having packed pints and quarts and chocolate boxes solo all day, but it was definitely a good tired. I reflected on those first slow and anxious winter months, when I would drive by and see Betty reading the paper in front of the window. Winter finally did break, and after a mini-media blitz and some balmy temperatures, customers started appearing. I remember a friend in March telling me, ‘You’re going to need roller skates by this summer!’ She was right. By early June, business was humming. Those three summer months were a whirlwind of making ice cream for 8 hours, scooping into the night, then dragging my exhausted self out the back to that lovable band of fearless neighbor buddies. Then almost as fast as they arrived, the weeds thinned out again. As the leaves began falling, I was able to regain some bit of a life, along with Mondays. I remember that first Monday off. I didn’t know what to do with myself. I think I actually opened the shop for a few hours because it was a really warm day in October and I knew I could sell some cones. This is the mentality of a new business owner! Fast forward back to my Christmas Eve cocktail. At that point in the memory lane hike, I figured it was time to call it a year. I double-checked all the shop shutdown steps, stuffed a towel in the front door’s mail slot, and bid good night to my baby for the start of its (and my own) three week winter vacation. Unfortunately, the backyard antics have fallen by since the arrival of old man winter, albeit with the conspicuous exception of an occasional police-inviting fireworks display on the frozen pond, so my social life has been dependent more on Netflix movies and the Brass Cat pub across the street. That night, though, there was one car left in the parking lot, my ultra-hip neighbor Rachel, the film producer (speaking of cool cocktail party jobs), who helped me with that bottle of red and the reminiscing, along with a little Will Farrell as an Elf. After a late night pack followed by an early morning drive to Bradley Airport, I was off to sunny Florida for the start of three weeks of ice cream and gummi-free living.

I had every good intention of crafting my first poolside installment of the Diaries, but after just a couple or three days of waking up with visions of sugar plums and ice cream projects dancing in my head, my mind settled nicely into vacation mode. At that point, I decided the Diaries would have to wait until my Florida family and beach time was done. So here I finally am, trying to remember a few funny stories from this past era gone by. Let me try to rattle my memory with a few snippets…

Here are some of this year’s Christmas creations… Chocolate-dipped candy canes – suffice to say, the chocolate-dipped marshmallow peeps needn’t be worried. The Santa Sundae – peppermint stick ice cream with hot fudge, whipped cream, and a candy cane. Not bad. Pumpkin Pie ice cream pies – huge seller. The Elf Sundae – Eggnog ice cream with hot fudge, whipped cream, topped with a dash of nutmeg, also not bad. Better than the movie Elf anyway.

I tried to pump up sales for a few of the regular flavors by holid-izing their names… George Bailey’s Irish Cream, Cotton Candy Cane, Christmas (frozen) Pudding.

Calli, the gassy cat, had a nice little vacation of her own. At where she likes to call her ‘house in the Hamptons.’ Thanks to cool couple Mary and Greg for opening up their E’Hampton home to the fair yet foul feline.

Ok, I think I’m warmed up now.

Speaking of holiday flavors, my first commissioned ice cream creation was a sled-away success. Just to refresh your memory, a woman in town asked me to whip up a couple batches of the brown sugar based flavor with gingery caramel and gingerbread ice cream for a Festivus party she was hosting around Christmas. I consulted Dad, along with the ice cream folks web chat group, for advice on the brown sugar flavoring. With their help, I discovered a great new flavor supplier deep in the heart of Kentucky. First, I made a test batch. Very sweet. Since it actually tasted pretty good, I decided to test market it too. It took a bit of customer education, but once people tried it, they were hooked. I was able to check out the party after I closed up shop that night. It was quite an event; hot local bands playing in the basement (one of the guitar players called my ice cream ‘dreamy’, that was a highlight for me), tons of food, the obligatory wall of grievances, a Festivus pole (the fake holiday’s answer to the Christmas tree), and a veritable Horton Hears a Who of townsfolk. There was just something cool about seeing a guy wearing a Maroon 5 rock band t-shirt walk by carrying a beer in one hand and a cup of my ice cream in the other. Mt. Tom’s and Nicole’s Festivus party almost went national that night too! That day, I got an email from a TV producer for CNN’s Paula Zahn Show. She was doing a segment on Festivus parties and was looking for an actual party for a live feed. Her producer had tracked down my email address through a ‘Festivus party’ web search and landed in the Ice Cream Diaries. I connected him with the host of the party, but unfortunately they just couldn’t get a crew to the party in time. Darn.. Word still got around the party, and the hint of expectation for a CNN appearance made for an even more festive(us) atmosphere.

Ok, enough said about Christmas and other fake holidays. On to the next excuse, vacation. In keeping with the extended version of my marketing mantra “Life is Short. Eat Ice Cream. And take a vacation once a year.”, I closed up shop for three weeks and got out of dodgeball. It was a little weird to leave my baby alone for such a long time and be so far away, but I felt pretty good that Jack, my gas station attendant/salesman buddy across the street, would keep his good eye on the place. Just to be sure, I slipped him a loaded-up new Mt. Tom’s gift card to go with my cell phone number. Caught a Christmas morning flight on Delta’s sleigh to Orlando and was at brother Mike and his wife Els’ in time to say ‘pass the roast beast’. Had a relaxing and warm ten days in sunny Florida. A little beach time, reading Grisham by the pool, working a ‘Big Dig’ project with my 2 ½ year old nephew Wil and his array of dump trucks and front-end loaders, bringing the folks up to speed on their new home theater (guess it’s only fair after all the free ice cream lessons they gave me last year), and just doing nothing. Aside from peaking into the window of a Cold Stone Creamery in Tampa and having a few shop talks with Pop, I truly did leave my work at the office. The good news is that although I was definitely enjoying the life of leisure, part of me was looking forward to getting back to the action. I took that as a good sign relative to the career choice I made almost two years ago.

Speaking of the old career, I had the opportunity to stop into my old place of employment, Lucent Technologies, a few weeks ago. Kyle, one of my old work and mountain biking buddies, signed me in as an ice cream vendor, and after we caught up over a cup of coffee in the employee lounge, he let me nostalgically wander the halls. As I shuffled through the old cubicle world, I wallowed in the memories of corporate life as they came rushing back. It was great to see and reminisce with some of the ex-workmates, the hearty survivors, but it was clear that the old wingtip stomping ground had become a very different place. As I walked by a guy wearing a ‘Don’t wake me. I’m working.” T-shirt, I struggled for a metaphor. Times change. People change. Back in Lucent’s glory days, there was a feeling of invincibility, that the big raises and bonuses would always be there and we would all ride into the happy and wealthy early retirement sunset high upon our ever-growing LU stock portfolios. As I later that day stared into the shiny, dark, and empty abyss that once was the million square feet of state-of-the-art manufacturing space, it seemed surreal that everything could have changed so much and so fast. My next thought was of ice cream and gummi bears (I know, never far from the mind now) as I mumbled to myself, ‘Wow, isn’t change great!’. I certainly wish my Lucent stock was back at 40 and not 4, but to me that big empty factory floor represented new and exciting challenges for the thousands of people who were ‘forced’ to do something different. I’m sure the change wasn’t pleasant for many, especially at first. But like my buddies Cathy and Ken, who took retirement packages and had the time of their lives in Spain for a year, change can be an amazing opportunity. It’s all in what you make of it.

On the local business front, there have been a couple of changes on the street this past month. Cottage Street and Easthampton’s beloved ‘Smokin’ Lil’s BBQ’ restaurant moved out and was replaced with Amy’s Bar & Grill. Although it was tough to see SL’s go, in the interest of keeping Cottage Street hip and happenin’, and selfishly, keeping a steady flow of after-dinner dessert-ers coming to Mt. Tom’s, we’re pulling for Amy’s successful expansion from pub to grub. The other Cottage Street ownership change happened next door at Mi Casa, the Spanish/Cuban restaurant that opened this past summer. The original owner couldn’t make a go of it, so now it’s been ‘taken over’ by the Todd Denis, of local ‘Pizza, Wings, and Things’ restaurant fame. He’s revamped the menu to include the more predictable Mexican fare… Tacos, Burritos, and Things. I wish Todd best of luck too. One thing I’ve quickly learned in the food service biz is that you truly do only get a single chance to make a good impression. People will try you once. If they like the food and the experience, they will come back. If they love it, they will tell their friends. If it’s just average or worse, they won’t be back, and more than likely, you will never see their friends.

In the spirit of change, I wanted to introduce a new character to the Diaries this month. I think I’ve alluded to him once or twice. He’s actually Root Beer Rudy’s younger brother, let’s call him Rudy Junior for now. RJ. He was in the shop a lot around Christmas. His birthday was in early December, and he was determined to spend all his birthday booty on ice cream and candy. Sharp and outgoing kid, Reej has a paper route and a confidence that will take him far as long as he stays on this side of the law. Always gets the peppermint stick ice cream. Parks his bike in the back and comes in through the back kitchen door. Of course, I had to put a stop to that move right away. He sits at the bar and orders up a large bowl of pepp stick with a root beer chaser. A woman sits next to him, and he immediately starts chattin’ her up. As she reaches to grab hold of her young daughter who’s trying to slither away to the candy section, RJ the twelve year old says, ‘enjoy it now while you can still outrun them.’ I think it’s somewhere between his first and second bowl that I start thinking, although this kid’s still in the awkward, wear braces and have a paper route stage, you can just tell he’s right on the edge of being the coolest beatnik in the schoolyard. I usually try to grill him for information on his now famous brother Rudy, but as he sat there initiating conversations with every grown up that came in, it was clear I needed to put this kid on the ICD watch list. You gotta like a kid who, when I asked what he had for dinner, responds in a completely straight face, ‘I had a Diet Ginger Ale and a Hot Pocket’. Stanley, the older gentleman who comes in on Sunday afternoons for coffee and a little sports talk before watching football at Amy’s Place, and RJ became fast friends one Sunday in December. Stan’s always well-dressed and reserved. RJ is all over the place, especially after a couple bowls of pepp stick and a dozen pixie stix. After an hour or so of grandfather-to-son banter, RJ packs up the big bag of candy he’d bought for his school science project to make an edible cell, drapes his paper route bag over his shoulder and skips out to his bmx. About two minutes later, none other than RB Rudy himself breathlessly enters the shop, in his larger than life, shiny jet black hair with matching nails persona, and in an un-Rudy-like manner excitedly asks if I’d seen his little brother. Seems RJ was about two hours late, and Mom and Pop Rudy were angry and worried. After I told him his brother had just left, Rudy mumbled something like ‘I’m going to kill him’, but it was still nice to see Rudy put aside his coolness and play the big brother/protector role. And even better to realize I had just discovered a new character.

It seems I’ve been in a rather reflective mood today, so I might as well end on a philosophical note. With the snow swirling around the giant walk-in freezer that is the great outdoors, two freezer failures, and a candy lull between holidays, I guess it’s as good a time as any to take a pondering wander beyond the dipping cabinets. During the eight hour train ride to Toronto, one of my winter break cold weather destinations, I had the opportunity to scoop into my first non-fiction since ‘Making Dough: The Secret to Krispy Kreme’s Success’. The book was ‘The Power of Intention’, by everyone’s favorite PBS fundraiser, Dr. Wayne Dyer. By the way, thanks to my friend Jean www.thinkpeople.com for this unexpected and self-helpful gift. As I click-clacked past Rochester, Utica, and Syracuse, I dug into the concept of ‘intention’. My Cliff Notes digestion - when you create in your mind a ‘strong purpose or aim, accompanied by a determination to produce a desired result’, you activate a powerful energy source inside yourself and subsequently in the ‘universe’. Dyer explains that the key is to wholeheartedly think not ‘if’, but ‘when’. And act as if what you desire is already in your possession. For example, if you constantly dwell on your empty bank account or all those dateless Saturday nights, this will essentially create a Pigpen-like cloud of negative energy around you that will literally repel financial success and soul mates. It’s as if your thoughts create an energy level strong enough only to draw in that which is at the same level. Or in Wayne’s words (not Wayne’s World, excellent!), “Be that which you are seeking”. Dr. D. is great, and so is the book, but a young bartender at a bar in Toronto that weekend summed it up best. My buddy Mark and I had just spent an hour with a woman I’d arranged to meet while I was in town. She’s the twin sister of my friend Kris, my college ex-girlfriend for those keeping score at home, and she was beautiful. Stunning. Yet refreshingly cool and very nice. When she left to meet her boyfriend, the bartender says to me, ‘What happened?’ To which I disdainfully replied, ‘She left for her date. He’s a professional hockey player.’ Then I concluded my end of the brief exchange with, ‘How do you compete with that?’ The young bartender smirked confidently, barely taking his eyes off his martinis and replied, ‘It’s all just a state of mind.’ Sure enough.

Well, I think I’ve gone on long enough. Don’t worry, the next issue will be much more light and airy! Until then, enjoy the rest of your day, think Spring, and go Pats!

Jim, the Ice Cream Philosopher