On Saturday (Aug. 24), saw and heard something that I haven't seen or heard in a long time: the sound of an ice cream truck coming into the neighborhood. It reminded me of my youth, living in Germany, where after school I would keep my allowance and spend it on ice cream or candy. We had a special name for the truck and the server that we'd see each day: The Goomi Man. I think it came from the fact he not only served ice cream, but also Gummi Bears and other great sweets.

My brother and I would keep every penny we'd find or earn just to get the tasty sweets they'd serve each day. My favorite was Spaghettieis. The best way I could describe it is a mountain of ice cream shaped like spaghetti. To this day, it is still my favorite type of ice cream.

I don't think my kids quite get the concept of the ice cream truck. They still believe to get ice cream you just go to the store or Baskin Robbins or Dairy Queen or Russell Stovers. Earlier this summer, they heard the ice cream truck and asked, "What's that?" They heard the music playing about two blocks away and didn't know what it was. I didn't see it stop then, but this weekend I did.

The truck stopped in front of my house and some neighborhood children got some ice cream. By the time I found my wallet and cash, it was gone. I think I'll start saving up some cash and coins to get some from the truck the next time they come around.

I have to admit, it was nice to hear the music from the ice cream truck that reminded me of my youth, even if I didn't get some ice cream on this go-around.