Ode to Ice Cream

Some pilgrims go to Mecca, or the Wailing Wall.  Others go to Graceland or Carnegie Hall.  My most treasured place on the planet is Whitey's Ice Cream.

I grew up in an area on the border of Iowa and Illinois called the Quad Cities.  It's actually more than four, but the point is the cities are all clumped together.  Unless you're crossing the Mississippi River to jump states,  you almost have to live there to know when you've gone from one to the next.  When I was a kid, a lot of people didn't go into the other cities very often.  We were one of those families, at least while I was in grade school.  

There was an ice cream shop right across from my school, but it wasn't Whitey's.  The Ice Creamery it was called, and it was good and convenient - every day ice cream.   Special occasions required special ice cream, and then we'd make the looong trek over to Moline and go to Whitey's.  

Now I live in Florida.  My drive to work is farther than the trip from our house to Whitey's.

I am a lover of ice cream, a connoisseur if you will.  I've had ice cream all over the place, from Florida to Alaska, Maine to southern California.  I've had other ice creams that were pretty good, but none of them tops Whitey's.  

I tell these Floridians about Whitey's all the time.  They smile, they laugh - they humor me, in other words.  I can tell they don't believe that the best ice cream in the world can come from Moline.

My husband, Aaron, was one of the non-believers, until we went to visit my parents when they lived in Iowa.  He told me it couldn't possibly live up to my hype.  Then he tasted it.

"Now," I asked, "is this not the best ice cream you've ever had?"

Aaron has tasted the light.  

He thinks I'm addicted to ice cream, that I have a Problem.  In order to show him otherwise, we have a bet - I've given up ice cream for one whole year.  My reward?  On July 1, I will be getting a six-pack of Whitey's famous shakes (well, maybe one will be a malt), packed in dry ice and friendship, and sent halfway across the country to my waiting taste buds.

The wait will be worth it.