By Doug Patrick
Protesters recently formed outside of the Dippin Dots Headquarters in Paducah, Kentucky. Wearing ski-masks and wielding oversized spoons, the group chanted, over and over, “the future is now, the future is now, the future is now.”
The heart of their grievances? Simple. They feel they’ve been lied to. Perhaps no image describes this sentiment better than the jet-black word “Bullshit” spray painted over top of the company’s tagline: Ice Cream of the Future.
“I’d been eating Dippin Dots ever since I was a kid, loved ‘em,” one protester, Raymond Bukowski, said. “I remember getting them once with my dad, thinking, you know, I’m going to be doing this with my kid someday. Me, a father, buying my kids Dippin Dots—only by then I imagined they’d just be called ice cream.”
Many from the angry group shared similar experiences. They believed Dippin Dots would progress with them throughout their young lives. They took the company’s tagline as a promise they could count on.
“The future of ice cream?” Bukowski asked. “Psh. It’s no promise. Not to me anymore at least.” He spat onto the company’s window. “Nothing more than a cheap pick-up line to get me spooning them.”
Although the group was an angsty and despondent bunch, the whole display maintained a level of hope.
The ski-masks the protesters wore were an assortment of white, yellow, and pink. The same colors found in Dippin Dots’ Banana Split flavor.
“From their big corporate offices in the sky, those suits are gonna be forced to look down on us,” one piece of banana said. “They’re going to see what they’ve created, and see it asking more of them.”
Another said, “We’re not just a tasty treat for the child to young-adult demographic. We’re a social movement.”
Binding arms with her fellow protesters, a piece of vanilla asserted, “We are ice cream, and we are here now.”