Scoop, scoop...

{To a poet, nothing can be useless.}
Samuel Johnson

Moose Tracks ice cream is arguably among the least romantic flavors of ice cream. (Cookie Dough is probably the first on that list.) Even the name is positively lacking in eloquence and grace.

Yet who realized today the lesson, the poetry of Moose Tracks ice cream? Yes, I confess. I am guilty as charged, and plead as such. I have been learning from ice cream for years now.

But before you stop reading, keep reading.

Think of a fresh carton of regular old Moose Tracks ice cream. A rough texture created by the strangely adhesive quality of the lid, but purely white in most cases. When you carve out your scoop from that perfect iceberg of frozen creaminess, the possibilities are endless. There could be four peanut butter cups in your scoop, a prize indeed for some. Or even better, the biggest swirl of chocolate fudge that ever was tracked into Moose Tracks. On the other end, there could be just an endless vanilla avalanche. (always a tragedy)

All sarcasm aside, every time I dig into a carton of Moose Tracks, I wonder how many people are like that? Beneath their frozen skin, is there a swirl of intriguing qualities? Is there a peanut butter cup of humor or joy?

There is so much we cannot see beneath the frosty vanilla outside everyone presents. Vanilla is the default, very few people hate vanilla. But some people don't like chocolate or are allergic to peanut butter. So we cover our colorful insides to please a majority.

We only have one to please, and He is the one who gave us chocolate swirls and peanut butter cups. It is we who frost ourselves over avalanche style, making me want to dig deeper into people, find out who they really are.

I am tired of vanilla everywhere. Show me your chocolate swirls, your dreams and don't let people fool you into thinking they are all vanilla. Face value is worthless to me. True value is what I seek.