As a tribute to the last days of summer, photos of ice cream trucks of Los Angeles. Ice cream trucks remind me of visiting my grandmother when I was little. We didn't have any trucks where I lived, but one frequented her street in the summer. The sound of its sing-song bell would send me and my brother into a frenzy, pleading with the nearest adult for some change. I was always so worried we'd miss it and it would drive right by. And then the choices! Oh, what to pick on that special day? An old stand-by like Fudgsicle? Something with ice cream? Or Italian ice, which I recall was the trendy and popular thing to get on the block. Ice cream trucks are always parked at corners in Manhattan in the summer, but I've yet to buy something from one. Now if they turned on that siren and drove slowly down my street, I'm sure I'd be the first one out my door.