Do all of you guys remember the Good Humor man, or was that just an East Coast thing? You'd better believe I remember him. I consider his ice-cream truck an important part of my summer memories.
For those of you who don't know, the Good Humor man was a guy who sold Good Humor-brand ice-cream treats out of a truck that played a distinctive jingle that must have been written by Pavlov himself, because when you heard that jingle, you immediately stopped what you were doing -- you could be in the middle of pitching a baseball and you'd just drop it on the ground -- and sprinted for the parking lot to get a King Cone or a strawberry shortcake bar.
It's been a long time since I last saw a real ice-cream truck, but I was reminded of the Good Humor man recently when I learned that the city of Boulder, as of this summer, has banned the sale of ice cream and all other foods that kids actually like to eat at all Boulder Parks and Recreation facilities. That means that if you're hanging out by the pool or playing softball on a hot day in Boulder, instead of cooling off with an ice-cream sandwich, you can go suck ice!
The ban on things like ice cream, potato chips, cookies and, presumably, sodas and sugary iced teas and juices is due to the strict nutritional standards that foods must meet to be sanctioned by the city of Boulder. This is because the city of Boulder knows what's best for you and your kids and should be making all of your decisions for you.
In fairness, people are still allowed to bring their own food -- including ice cream and other snacks -- to parks and pools operated by the city, but they can't buy those things there, thank God. Imagine how horrible it would be if parents were allowed to buy their kids something yummy instead of a bag of baby carrots or a tofu dog. I shudder just thinking about it.
The sad thing is that when I heard about Boulder's ban on anything that tastes good, I wasn't the least bit surprised. It's just another symptom of the kind of liberal fascism that reigns in the People's Republic of Boulder, and it's exactly why some people are actually going to vote for Donald Trump in November. They may agree that Trump is a clown, but they're sick and tired of government -- local, state and federal -- telling them what they can and can't do.
For decades now, Boulder has had a reputation within Colorado as 25 square miles surrounded by reality, but I'm not sure if folks who don't live here really grasp what that means. On the surface, it might seem like a good thing -- reality bites, after all -- but don't be fooled. What it really means is that the far-left-leaning powers that be in Boulder are going to do everything they can to force you to adhere to their narrow definition of what is right, proper, healthy and eco-friendly.
As of this writing, the city of Boulder has not yet made it a law for all residents to get up and do yoga every morning before biking to wherever they're going, but you can rest assured that it will happen sooner or later. It's just the logical next step in Boulder's evolution toward an Orwellian hellhole.
The funny thing about that is that if you were to ask the powers that be in Boulder what they thought of themselves, I'm sure they would consider themselves the most anti-Orwellian people on Earth. But the way Boulder denies people the right to make their own choices is straight out of "1984."
To put it another way: Boulder is absolutely convinced that it's one of the most liberal places in America, but it's actually one of the least. It's very left-wing, to be sure, but if by "liberal" you mean Oxford Dictionary definition 1.1: "Favorable to or respectful of individual rights and freedoms," then Boulder is about as liberal as Saudi Arabia.
I consider it downright un-American, to be honest, and I can't help but feel awful for the real victims in all of this: the children of Boulder, who won't get to include ice cream in their summer memories -- that is, unless some renegade Good Humor man starts making commando raids into the city to save kids from their totalitarian overlords.
Todd Hartley ... wait, did I just hear the Good Humor jing ...