As a little boy growing up in the 1960'S in NYC, the Mr. Softee jingle was part of our lives. When the truck was a block away we would ring our door bells, our mothers stuck their heads out the window, and there was a chorus of the children on our block.." Ma can we get Softee please". As a young boy conscious of being gay I would think Mr. Softee had a overdone beehive like hairdo, a bow tie, wore lipstick, and of course the real giveaway was that he was just a softee...lol.
Attention Ann C. -- Coins won't do it anymore, not when the simplest of ice cream cones is north of $3.oo; forget about brown bonneting it.....
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With this title, I thought the article would be about Robert Pronge, the notorious Mr. Softee hitman.
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No offense meant to the late Mr. Waas, but if I never hear the Mr. Softee theme (or any of the other ice-cream vendor jingles, especially the one with that annoying "hello?" at the end) I'll be a happier man.
If you think that NYC has become a quiet place, take a step outside of Manhattan and the hipsterized neighborhoods of Brooklyn once in a while. It ain't so. People working on cars, revving engines incessantly; blasting music from cars; loud arguments; band practice; little kids playing outside in the middle of the night... the ice-cream jingles are probably the most annoying though. At least in Manhattan they enforce the law... they're not supposed to keep the jingle going when the truck is stopped or idled; but in much of Brooklyn and Queens they don't care... the lower the income of the neighborhood, the more likely they are to violate the law. Miss the noise in NYC? Move to a poor neighborhood. You might get over that nostalgia quickly.
If you think that NYC has become a quiet place, take a step outside of Manhattan and the hipsterized neighborhoods of Brooklyn once in a while. It ain't so. People working on cars, revving engines incessantly; blasting music from cars; loud arguments; band practice; little kids playing outside in the middle of the night... the ice-cream jingles are probably the most annoying though. At least in Manhattan they enforce the law... they're not supposed to keep the jingle going when the truck is stopped or idled; but in much of Brooklyn and Queens they don't care... the lower the income of the neighborhood, the more likely they are to violate the law. Miss the noise in NYC? Move to a poor neighborhood. You might get over that nostalgia quickly.
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"At least in Manhattan they enforce the law... they're not supposed to keep the jingle going when the truck is stopped or idled; but in much of Brooklyn and Queens they don't care... '
So true, when I lived in Brooklyn, a Mr. Softee truck would park underneath my window and play the jingle until 2 in the morning in the summertime. Luckily, I was able to move. The author of this article must either live in an extremely quiet apartment or not in the city at all. The noise of New York city is nothing to sentimentalize. And, it is especially true in poor neighborhoods.
So true, when I lived in Brooklyn, a Mr. Softee truck would park underneath my window and play the jingle until 2 in the morning in the summertime. Luckily, I was able to move. The author of this article must either live in an extremely quiet apartment or not in the city at all. The noise of New York city is nothing to sentimentalize. And, it is especially true in poor neighborhoods.
RIP. When I was a child, hearing that jingle always perked me up, and I'd hurry downstairs clutching my coins on a hot summer evening to buy a delicious, cooling ice cream. It tasted so good on a humid NYC evening.
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That's the first tune I remember getting stuck in my childhood brain and not being able to get out, waaaaay before Dexy's Midnight Runners or Aha.
Thanks alot, Mr. Waas.
RIP.
Thanks alot, Mr. Waas.
RIP.
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Mr. Softee was the original Conehead. It was good, but the real ice cream of Good Humor and Bungalow Bar and our street's favorite independent, Joe the Ice Cream Man had it beat. But that jingle certainly stuck with you.
On the salty side of the tastebuds, there was Ruby the Knish Man- the Nobel Prize winner of street vendors.
No cellphones, no internet- people actually talked in person to each other. Easier and tastier life then!
On the salty side of the tastebuds, there was Ruby the Knish Man- the Nobel Prize winner of street vendors.
No cellphones, no internet- people actually talked in person to each other. Easier and tastier life then!
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I can hear the tune in my head now, a lovely memory from my childhood in the burbs of Grand Rapids, Mich. on a long summer evening.
RIP Mr. Waas. Listening to the Mister Softee jingle brought back many memories of my Bronx childhood. My neighborhood was also visited by the Bungalow Bar and Good Humor ice cream trucks. One can never have enough ice cream.
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The Mister Softee song had lyrics!? Who knew. Who knew. RIP Les Waas.
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Fifty years ago in New York one of my friends 1) liked ice cream and 2) had a flair for electronics. He taped the Mister Softee jingle and played it very loudly outside at 3:00 am. The next day the innocent Mister Softee man found himself being attacked by irate Moms. My friend explained to him that he could avoid this in the future by providing one free ice cream every day, The deal was made.
I was a Good Humor Man that summer. We regarded Mister Softee ice cream as a very low-grade product, not ice cream at all.
I was a Good Humor Man that summer. We regarded Mister Softee ice cream as a very low-grade product, not ice cream at all.
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Actually it is "real" ice cream
I remember Mister Softee from growing up in Detroit-- not all the words, but the melody is indelible. (The moment I saw the word Softee on my screen, it started playing in my head.)
Here in Mexico, every kind of street vendor has their own identifying sound. The bakery guy toots a bicycle horn (sometimes made from a plastic Coke bottle), the knife sharpener uses a trombone-style pennywhistle, dessert vendors sing out "MerengueMerengueMerengue," trash truck yells "basura!" And one man who sells emanadas, panuchos and other quick-lunch Yucatecan delicacies sings out his wares in a voice so smooth the we yell to each other "Pavarotti is coming!" Any other vendor just yells "Hola!!" and we walk outside to see what fish or shrimp or cheap cookware set he's got.
Ice cream? We're at the beach, and in summer the freezer-tricycles have the exact same bells as the Good Humor Man. Except for one--a newfangled actual TRUCK that plays an electronic "Turkey in the Straw" over... and over... and over...
Care to send one of those Mister Softee trucks down here? I'm sure it will translate into Spanish just fine.
Here in Mexico, every kind of street vendor has their own identifying sound. The bakery guy toots a bicycle horn (sometimes made from a plastic Coke bottle), the knife sharpener uses a trombone-style pennywhistle, dessert vendors sing out "MerengueMerengueMerengue," trash truck yells "basura!" And one man who sells emanadas, panuchos and other quick-lunch Yucatecan delicacies sings out his wares in a voice so smooth the we yell to each other "Pavarotti is coming!" Any other vendor just yells "Hola!!" and we walk outside to see what fish or shrimp or cheap cookware set he's got.
Ice cream? We're at the beach, and in summer the freezer-tricycles have the exact same bells as the Good Humor Man. Except for one--a newfangled actual TRUCK that plays an electronic "Turkey in the Straw" over... and over... and over...
Care to send one of those Mister Softee trucks down here? I'm sure it will translate into Spanish just fine.
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The sound of the Mister Softee jingle always signaled to me that Spring had arrived. Although with this year's warm winter, I first heard it at the end of February.
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Many years ago, at a late-night gathering with friends over drinks, the conversation turned to the question "How do you want your funeral to be like?" I told them that I wanted mine to have an ice cream truck playing the Mister Softee jingle and free ice cream for everyone. That's because the jingle is a happy tune, reminiscent of lovely summer days in New York City. And best of all, everyone loves ice cream.
Whenever I hear the Mister Softee jingle, it lights me up no matter how tired or stressed out I am. And for a fleeting a moment, I am transported to a time in my life of summer weekends in the city, at delis, diners, pizza hole-in-the-walls, hanging out with friends I haven't seen in ages. Stephen Foster and Scott Joplin are names the writer of this article associates with the Mister Softee jingle. I fully agree, but I'd like to add Marcel Proust as well for the vivid memories the jingle evokes -- at least for me!
Thank you Mr. Waas for giving us a joyful, unforgettable melody.
Whenever I hear the Mister Softee jingle, it lights me up no matter how tired or stressed out I am. And for a fleeting a moment, I am transported to a time in my life of summer weekends in the city, at delis, diners, pizza hole-in-the-walls, hanging out with friends I haven't seen in ages. Stephen Foster and Scott Joplin are names the writer of this article associates with the Mister Softee jingle. I fully agree, but I'd like to add Marcel Proust as well for the vivid memories the jingle evokes -- at least for me!
Thank you Mr. Waas for giving us a joyful, unforgettable melody.
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A throwback to gentler and calmer times, Mister Softee's song and sweets tap deep into my inner child, evoking fond memories and hope for the summer of 2016.
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