The last time I wrote it was about filing my gas tank for $2.55. This time I’m writing about the “other guys.”
I was born in what’s called “The Hamptons,” but when I was a kid, it was a little town. There was no such thing as a mail box. I walked to the post office every day after school.
On weekends Dad and I would go to the ice house. We got 30 lbs of ice. There were no refrigerators in those days; just an ice box. I loved to go there. The customer would yell out how much he wanted, like 50 lbs or 75 lbs. They would cut the ice with a pick and slide it off the dock into a truck. Dad would pick up the 30 lb block of ice and put it on the back bumper. I always thought it would fall off, but it never did.
One of the strangest things was the milk man. There were a lot of stories told about him and we always had fresh milk by the front door. I never saw him. He was like Santa Claus, I guess.