I found bread, I found milk

I found bread and I found milk Thursday evening when I went to the grocery store.
Yes, the bread I found was 12 grain and the milk I found was cashew, but I found bread and I found milk.
I typically do my shopping on Thursday. I’m not sure why I do my shopping on Thursday — it’s just become a thing.
I must admit, part of my Thursday shopping trip was indeed in preparation for the upcoming storm — my current jug of milk for cereal was scant, the loaf of bread in the current package nearing the dreaded heel, but it was Thursday and I typically do my shopping on Thursday.
Many probably think I do my shopping Thursday because it’s the day after the circulars come out in the paper but I don’t buy the paper, for obvious reasons.
Even when a marketer for the local paper calls me I immediately tell them I’m not interested even though I’m not sure what they’re going to tell me. I just tell them who I am and what I do and tell them it’s in my best interest to not hear the rest of their spiel, although I reckon in hindsight it might be good intelligence gathering on my part to hear the spiel. I just decided early on in the formation of this website not to listen to spiels and live and let live.
This is a roundabout way to get to the real point of this column, because here lately I’ve suffered from a case of column fever, having a host of good ideas but neither the gumption or the mental drive to carry them out.
So I just let the fever go down and say to myself I’ll write a column or editorial when I get the gumption to do so. In many ways I feel I’m actually doing the reader a favor because I know some of my stuff isn’t easy to swallow — especially my stuff during the election cycle.
But this column isn’t about election cycles or newspaper marketers, it’s about the vast milk and bread conspiracy theorists who tell you there is no bread or milk to be found.
The bread I found was 12 grain and the milk I found was cashew, but I found bread and I found milk.
Some folks will argue that what I found in the store really wasn’t bread — since it wasn’t whitebread — and the milk I found wasn’t really milk because you can’t really milk a cashew, almond or soy bean because they don’t technically have udders.
My argument would be that had he lived long enough, George Washington Carver would have proven that, yes, peanuts and other legumes do, in fact, have udders, and that, yes, what I’ve been putting on my Raisin Bran Crunch every morning since the snowstorm is, in fact, milk.
So, take that people who told me in the store there was no milk or bread.
There was bread and there was milk.
While the dairy and bread aisles did look like something out of 1984 or the Great Depression, I smiled when I saw in the cases the bounty of alternative dairy products just begging to be bought and consumed, poured onto Raisin Bran Crunch or just enjoyed out of a frosty glass.
That’s when I began to think you can’t really believe the bread and milk nut jobs because they want you to feel as miserable as they are, that they got to the store too late to get the 1 percent, 2 percent, 3 percent or whole, or whatever the percentages are, that they want you to wallow with them in their breadless and milkless pity party.
Sorry, can’t do it. As I have written before, winter demands you show your true character, that winter is a Jack London novel where you adapt to the circumstances around you. So, no, I chose the cashew milk which was there and not the whole milk which wasn’t there.
Summer is easy, I have written before, but winter is a different animal and when I saw the bread aisles I again smiled. While the whitebread was picked through like a vulture feeding frenzy party on Highway 301, there was a cornucopia of the alternative bread — whole wheat, whole grain, five grain, six grain, 10 grain and my 12 grain and probably higher grains, which account for more than your daily allowance of roughage.
So, again, I scoffed, and thought of how the bread and milk conspiracy theorists want you to bask with them in their pity there is no more whitebread, no more whole milk, no skim or the other altered milks. Say what you want about cashews not having udders, there are also no skim or 2 percent cows that I’m aware of.
Winter cannot that easily defeat me and I as trudged away to checkout with my trophies — cashew milk and 12 grain bread — I thought of a column I wrote exactly three years and three days ago and how, yes, oh, yes, I found milk and I found bread — Lance Martin