Sounds Like Ice Cream

Bless this man. The NYPost is negatively reporting today that, under noise code regulations, my former employer Mr. Bloomberg is proposing to ban the Mister Softee jingle. You know, Da-na-na-na, dah-da, dah-da, da-dum-da-dum-dee-dah-dum! That one that plays 50 times in a row at 8am on Sunday morning right outside your window after a night of mainlining vodka tonics. Or worse, the song that plays from 3am-5am somewhere down the street from your old apartment in Harlem, just like Big Worm's truck in Friday only for real. Is everyone at the Post INSANE? Mister Softee is an evil nemesis. This ranks up there with the public smoking ban for "best thing for New York, ever" which, incidentally, the Post also panned. Considering a significant portion of my imagery of hell involved confinement in a putrid, smoke-filled room listening to that jingle for eternity, I think the question needs to be raised; is Rupert Murdoch, in fact, Satan?