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You Might Want to Re-Think the Ice Cream Truck Song

We had some of the Talenti Caramel Sea Salt Gelato last week, and it was awesome.
 
So the common ice cream truck song is a melody taken from a then popular racist song - but it's now been so long since the iteration of the ice cream truck that nearly all the people aware of the melody's origin are dead or dying. I would gamble that many common features of our society had offensive and nefarious origins. Do we dig up all those origins to make amends possibly cleanse ourselves, or do we choose to remain ignorant and let those origins fade into obscurity and irrelevance?
 
History, doomed to repeat it and such.
 
myDeaconmyhand said:
So the common ice cream truck song is a melody taken from a then popular racist song - but it's now been so long since the iteration of the ice cream truck that nearly all the people aware of the melody's origin are dead or dying. I would gamble that many common features of our society had offensive and nefarious origins. Do we dig up all those origins to make amends possibly cleanse ourselves, or do we choose to remain ignorant and let those origins fade into obscurity and irrelevance?
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don't worry about it, take some time off, go to disney world, it's hot, so ride on splash mountain, hey what's that zip a dee doo song from and those charac-SON OF A BITCH
 
Not to mention old Walt hated the Jews.
 
For God's sake, people, read the end of the article. The author isn't pushing for a boycott of ice cream trucks:

Here in the nation's capital, the cherry blossoms have come and gone. This means the warm weather will soon bring out the ice cream trucks, and I'll be confronted once again by their inconvenient truth. It's not new knowledge that matters of race permeate the depths of our history and infiltrate the most innocent of experiences, even the simple pleasure of ice cream (who can forget Eddie Murphy's famous, NSFW routine about the poor black experience with ice cream trucks?). However, when the reach of racism robs me of fond memories from my childhood, it feels intensely personal again.

Whenever I hear the music now, the antique voice laughing about n*****s and watermelon fills my head. I can live with this, but what's to be done on the summer day when my children's eyes light up at the far-off sound of the familiar melody, and they dash in a frenzy toward me for change? Do I empower them with the history of our country, or encourage the youthful exuberance induced by the ice cream truck? Is it my responsibility to foul the sweet taste of ice cream with their first taste of racism?

The answer is intellectually complex, but parental intuition provides clarity. When teeth fall out, I blame the dollar under their pillow on the tooth fairy. When presents appear overnight under the fir tree, I say Santa Claus is the culprit. And so when a song about n*****s and watermelon fills the suburban air, I will smile and hand over money from my pocket. The sight of my children enjoying a Good Humor ice cream bar will fight back the racist song that lampooned black people who happened to be in good humor. The delivery of the cold hard truth can wait until another day.
 
But he's thinking about whether he should tell them the truth. He might as well boycott.
 
ChicdeaC said:
Can you tie 'em in a knot, can you tie 'em in a bow? Can you throw 'em over your shoulder like a continental soldier? Do your ears hang low?
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Which we kids bastardized into "Do your balls hang low, can you swing them to and fro?"

ZOMG, the ice cream truck song is about testicles!
 
It was always "Do your boobs hang low" for me.

Has anyone else had this tune repeating nonstop in your head since yesterday?
 
PhDeac said:
The lyrics and its usage are connected to "ice cream". NPR explains that the meoldy became popular in ice cream trucks with the watermelon song.

I still don't understand what is so bad about liking watermelon and fried chicken for that matter.
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I never understood that either. Especially since they were as popular foods among southern whites as blacks at least where I grew up.
 
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