Thank A Fudgy Wudgy Man

Thank A US Veteran

Despite all the years I’ve spent vacationing in Wildwood, New Jersey, this weekend I learned something new.

It was hot as all heck on the beach but if you are going to sweat anyway, why not sweat at the Jersey Shore? We pulled our chairs up to the water’s edge and baked. Ahh, nothing more relaxing!

Weaving in and out of the droves of people camped along the water’s edge were the fudgy wudgy men, most of whom trudged their iced fudge through the water. I never saw that in my life.

Over the years, the fudgy wudgy operation has become quite sophisticated. Back in the day, the seemingly lone fudy wudy man carried his icebox on a strap over his shoulder. He’d set it down on the hot sand when a customer beckoned, and when he lifted the lid on that wooden-encased metal box, a stream of cold fog would escape. He worked fast so as not to let the ice-pops melt. He always looked tired and hot.

Just as in the past, today’s fudgy wudgy men wear all white, but they no longer heave an icebox over their shoulders. Now they push several large insulated plastic boat coolers on PVC frames with large inflatable wheels. This not only makes it easier to navigate the sand and water, but also enables them to carry more goods, including the always-in-demand bottled water.

(I wonder how the fudgy wudgy man in 1970 would have reacted to the suggestion that he carry bottled water?)

So there I sat, eying the sticker-laden boards above each fudgy wudgy man’s cart, looking for my favorite beach treat–a double fudge firecracker with banana in the middle. I only see these things on the beach in Wildwood. Then again, that’s the only time I think to look for them.

I got my treat and was just into the best part–the banana–when swoop from behind, a seagull snagged the entire popsicle from my hand. Darned flying rats! He placed it on the sand about ten feet in front of me and all his little flying buddies swooned down on the frozen treat only to learn they couldn’t eat it. It was either too cold or not solid enough to grasp in their beaks, or both. Either way, gone was my treat and my appetite.

In retrospect, they probably did my waistline a favor.

My BF offered to buy me another but I declined. Now I wish I hadn’t, for what I learned later that day made me want to purchase dozens of fudgy wudgies.

Learning Something New

As we cooled off in the water, we watched each passing fudgy wudgy man go farther and farther into the surf and we wondered if one of those carts would be swept away by a wave.

Most of the carts, maybe all of them, flew American flags. It’s one of those clear but taken for granted observations that you just don’t think too deeply about. Then, something caught my eye.

Amid the ice cream display stickers on one fudgy wudgy man’s cart was one of those white circular country identifiers that most people slap on their cars to identify their country of ethnicity or, more commonly, their favorite vacation spot (WW. WWC, 7MI, SIC, OBX, etc.). But this man’s sticker read IRQ. I looked up and noticed he was flying an Iraqi flag, too. “War veteran?” I wondered aloud. “Or maybe an Iraqi immigrant?”

Either way, I took comfort in the fact that I live in a country where it’s OK to fly another country’s flag. What freedom!

But I was curious. So I stopped and asked the next fudgy wudgy man who passed by. He told me that his competition was likely an Iraqi War Veteran. He said that in order to be a fudgy wudgy man, you have to be a veteran.

How ’bout that! All the Fudgy Wudgy Men are US Veterans!

I thanked him for his service and asked the obvious question. He was a Vietnam Vet. I thanked him again.

As we left the beach Saturday with all our gear in toe, we felt very remorseful for having uttered any complaints about the heat and scorching sand. We were in swimsuits eating popsicles by the ocean while thousands of troops in full uniform lug 100 lb. packs across the scorching desert sand with no ocean, no popsicles, and no guarantee that they’ll ever walk on American soil again.

To every man and woman who has served our country: THANK YOU!

Next time you’re in Wildwood, NJ, please patronize the fudgy wudgy man.

God Bless Our Troops!