Showing posts with label Bart Hickey and Uncle Bart Raw Courage. The Hickey Clan of Lawrence and Nora Hickey. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bart Hickey and Uncle Bart Raw Courage. The Hickey Clan of Lawrence and Nora Hickey. Show all posts

Wednesday, November 30, 2016

Trump and the Battered, Dipped and Fried Media: "Who Wants Rainbow Cones????"



Trump tweets* and people who expect hushed attention every time they open their yaps, or scribble deep thoughts, media types go off the rails bat-guano like a crowd of eight-year olds within earshot of my late uncle Bart Hickey.

Bart would watch his nieces and nephews at play in Grand Pa Hickey's patch of Crinnie Hill, his yard along the north side of his house at 7535 S. Marshfield, and decide to wind them up.

Bart was the tallest of the Hickey males and looked every bit the Korean War Marine Staff Sergeant that he had been, as well as a D.I., before his return to Chicago.  He was Hollywood handsome and full of the devil. Not unlike this guy Image result for china marine shanghai 1941

"Goofs and Split-tails!  Who wants Rainbow Cones?"

Who would not?  Since 1926, Rainbow Cone has been the south side Chicago Ice Cream Mecca, May the Prophet Bless it.

Ice Cream had been a treat, rather than part of the American food pyramid. . .Rainbow Cones!!!!  and any chance to raise the bar on the Good Humor truck or Dixie Cups from Hamilton Dairy was a release of juvenile passion known only to my generation, but appreciable to the broader culture.

Uncle Bart would pack his Buick full of Hickeys, Brennans and Winters no less than twelve at a time with a few in the trunk and drive way out to 9223 S. Western on the edge of the City - Ultima Thule in our provincial Visitation, St. Killian's, Little Flower and St. Tommy More Parish experiences.
Image result for Rainbow Cones
Rainbow Cones are towers of Orange sherbet, Pistachio, Palmer House vanilla with cherries and walnuts,, Strawberry and chocolate ice creams wrapped in a Belgian Waffle come . It ain't ice cream; it's Ambrosia.  Rainbow Cone the establishment looks like an old Spanish hacienda, right out of Zorro and remains open only from late March to early November.

Once we were baited, Uncle Bart would periodically shout out, " Who wants Rainbow Cones" and get the boomeranged universal " WE DO!!!!!!!!!!!!"

To which he'd reply, " Hey, who wouldn't?" and then go off to work.

Or, he might toss that one out at tender moments when Grandpa Hickey was regaling us of with tales of his strength, " I picked that Connacht bullock up over the wall by the ring in nose and he was that happy to be on the good side of Conway's line over with a better family, so."

" Who wants Rainbow Cones?"

Adios, to you, old Turkeybird!  Nice story. We're getting Rainbow Cones (sotta voce)

Only to wait, wait and wait. Are we ggoing to Rainbow Cones, Uncle Bart?

" Sure, when it snows in the Philippines!"

Cruel, hell no it was funny as hell.  We got toughened up to a world where one can not have everything.  In the words of Steven Wright, "where would we put it?"

Winding up eight olds is funny. Winding up Anderson Cooper, David Brooks, E. J. Dionne and the New York Times is hilarious. What a pack of dip-wads!

Donald Trump tweets to the media, like Uncle Bart tested his tribe with offers of Rainbow Cones.

The fun was in the watching.  I'd love a Rainbow Cone, right now!

* Trump's tweets to the media remind me of this great scene from the The Guard.