The phrase "I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream" crossed my brain.
So.........
I Googled "where in the hell did that phrase come from?"
Christian Kent Nelson, a Danish immigrant, was a teacher in Onawa, Iowa. He taught math, Latin and psychology at Onawa High School. After school, he would run to the store he co-owned with a feller named Mustard, thus, the Nelson-Mustard Cream Company. It was mainly a candy store, but they also sold ice cream.
Legend tells us, a young boy came into the store in 1919, could not decide between a chocolate bar or ice cream. Nelson asked the boy "Why don't you buy both?" "Sure, I know I want them both, but I only gotta nickel." Enter "Light Bulb" here.
Nelson set about experimenting dipping ice cream bars into melted chocolate. He was having trouble getting the chocolate to adhere to the ice cream, so, a 'bon-bon' salesman suggested "confectioners add cocoa butter to chocolate to get it to adhere." Gwalla, Gualah, or jualah, hualah, however you spell it. (As an aside, I tried to look up the correct spelling, verifying with the definition. First word I looked up was "Gwalla", and no, that ain't it. Gwalla is of West Indies origin, and it means "a female who receives large quantities of penis for personal gain, eg, money, jewelry, bill payment." No, that ain't it. Howabout we use the term Shazam instead? Deal? Deal, thanks.
So, Nels finally figures how to get the chocolate to stick... He calls this dandy 'Temptation I-scream Bar' and it sold well in the shop, and at the Onawa Fireman's picnic. It is said, this is where Nelson came up with the saying "I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream." (Some say it was from a song of the same name written by someone else in 1927, but, Nelson invented it in 1919, so I say "No, fake news", besides, it's my blog anyways.) .
Mr. Nelson traveled to Omaha, NE to consult with a patent lawyer. Whilst in Omaha, he happened upon a guy, the superintendent of a local ice cream plant, named Russell Stover. (Ripley's believe it or not.) They, Nelson and Stover, recognized the potential mutual benefit should they form a partnership - thus they did. Stover didn't like the I-scream name, and Nelson too worried if the song didn't stick, maybe the ice cream bar wouldn't either.........
So, they batted heads, surveyed dinner guests, the name Eskimo was mentioned, gwalla, I mean shazam, their new name, "The Eskimo Pie." It sold kajillions and they lived happily ever after.
No, that ain't it. It did grow amazingly. The product singlehandedly rescued the world cocoa market from a depression. Nelson changed the way ice cream was distributed by using dry ice.
After World War I there were so many imitators (such as the Klondike bar), tons of money was spent defending the patent, coupled with them having difficulties collecting royalties from licensees - Stover pulled out, sold his share back to Nelson for $25,000, moved to Denver and opened the Russell Stover Candy Store.
Nelson was swimming in headaches with copyright, overpaid salesmen, collections, yada, he met RJ Reynolds (uh huh, one in the same) and they cut a deal. Reynolds got 80% ownership, Nelson collected off the royalties. This arrangement worked well once Nelson stepped aside, but he got the itch to go back to work - did, for Reynolds, finally retiring at age 61. Nelson passed away in 1992 at the age of 99.
So now you know the origin of I scream you scream we all scream for ice cream, and I lovingly remember as a child singing it as the ice cream truck bell rang as it came down the road.
Paul Harvey, good day.
No, that ain't it, yet.
Tune in tomorrow where we'll study the move from Denver to Kansas City and the amazing success of Russell Stover. My cousin loved Russell Stover chocolates. Not all of them, but most of them.
So...........
He'd pick one up out of the dainty crinkled cup it lay in, turn it over, stick his thumb in it.. if it was one of the ones he determined "yummy", he would eat it. If not, he'd place it back in the crinkled wrapper right side up and the joke was on you. Or, me.
By Henry Gibson, forward by Paul Harvey. No, that ain't it. End by Paul Harvey.
Good day,
Love, Victurd
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