Ice cream man's music puts town in a bad humor

The ice cream vendor says he needs the music to let children know he's there.
MOUNT LEBANON, Pa. (AP) -- You can still scream for ice cream in one Pittsburgh suburb -- as long you don't use a loud speaker to do it.
For nearly six decades, 81-year-old Harold "Chuck" Greenberger has driven an ice cream truck around the streets of the South Hills, a group of Pittsburgh suburbs, and over the years, he's found nothing captures children's attention like a calliopelike rendition of "Turkey in the Straw."
But recently, Greenberger, the owner of Chuck's Ice Cream, has found some municipalities have been giving the cold shoulder to his trucks and the repetitive, circuslike music that emanates from them.
From early April to late October, the loudspeakers on trucks driven by Greenberger and the seven employees who work for him fill the air with toots and whistles from about noon until sundown.
But last month, a police officer in the affluent municipality of Mount Lebanon gave Greenberger a warning ticket and threatened he could be fined $50 plus $107 in costs if he continued to play music as he sold ice cream.
"I don't go there any more because I don't want the ticket," Greenberger said. "They said I can come in and sell ice cream, but I can't play no music. I don't know any way that an ice cream truck can sell ice cream with no music."
The municipality will allow Greenberger to use a bell to call attention to his truck, but he's afraid the bell won't be heard in this day of air-conditioned homes and cars.
Municipal ordinance
After a Mount Lebanon resident complained, a police officer found Greenberger was violating a 2-decade-old ordinance that prohibits people from operating a vehicle "equipped with and using sound-producing devices to attract public attention for advertising purposes or to display or demonstrate merchandise," said municipal spokeswoman Susan Morgans.
This isn't the first time someone has complained about the music coming from Greenberger's trucks. He's agreed to turn off his speakers whenever he enters the township of Upper St. Clair.
"Out of 1,000 people, one or two people don't like the music and ask us to turn it down or turn it off. The rest say, 'Don't let the music stop,"' said Billy Borlak, the owner of Billy's Ice Cream, which operates musical ice cream trucks in the northern and western parts of the metropolitan area. "You have to accommodate the people and turn the music down, even if they're the minority."
Exempt in Clairton
But Greenberger is exempt from any ordinance that prohibits or regulates peddling in the city of Clairton, where he's sold ice cream for 57 years.
"He's actually providing a service and making the community better ... If that's all Mount Lebanon has to worry about -- how Chuck is playing his music too loud -- then they should be happy," said Ralph D. Imbrogno, Clairton's manager.
In the case of Mount Lebanon, Greenberger won't give up his music without a fight. After he received the warning ticket, he complained to the municipality's commissioners, who agreed to study whether they can modify the ordinance. They promised to give Greenberger an answer by next spring.
"It's the ice cream man. It's kind of an American tradition. Nobody wants to see somebody pick on the ice cream man. But that was certainly not our intent to pick on the ice cream man or hurt his business," Morgans said.