I was alerted to the Gloversville Ice Cream Truck War by a Facebook friend who had the effrontery to suggest that the chilling events were taking place in my home town. As I observed at the time, such behavior would have drawn the notice and sharp yet delicious reaction of the Peppermint Days Committee. In the 24 hours since, it is now all over the Internet, even though no kittens or babies are involved.
Having been through Gloversville, albeit 20-odd years* ago, I would not have thought the place capable of supporting multiple multiple-truck ice cream vendors, but perhaps they have finally recovered from the collapse of the glove industry. Plus, it being May in central New York, I imagine that the "Sno Cone Joe" agents were slowed in their pursuit of "Mr. Ding-a-ling"** by piles of slush. Our village ice cream guy, Carl (snappy focus-grouped motto: "Here Comes Carl!" At least he didn't put that on the back of the truck) didn't start making the rounds until June at the earliest, if memory serves, which frankly it probably does not.
Hey, everybody, it's music time!
*I assure you they were odd