As a typical immigrant trying zealously to fit in with the natives, I have embraced Boston’s love of ice cream in all seasons; in fact, I love the idea of walking around with a cone on days when the air is colder than the ice cream itself. This, however, is the first time I’ve ever seen an ice cream truck rolling around in the middle of January in Boston, and I confess that I ran out the door shoelaces untied when I heard the tinkle of “The Entertainer” at about 4pm this afternoon. And like the other neighborhood kids, got me some ice cream.
Then the Frosty drove away, thumpety thump thump.
