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Bags this
Everyone remembers where he or
she was the day that forever changed
life in
America as we know it: the day they changed school milk packaging from
the
carton to those little breast-implant-style bags.
I remember rumors circulating the halls of my school on that day in the
second grade: “Tim Landry wears Super Mario underwear.” It was terrible.
Fortunately, I also remember the rumor more pertinent to this column:
“There
are going to be some changes in the lunchroom—specifically, with the
milk.”
The word “bags” was thrown around extraneously.
I think I remember the National Guard being called into my elementary
school to control us that day. And not because we were protesting the
bombing of Cambodia, but because we were too busy freaking out over this
sudden and inexplicable change in lunchroom policy.
“Bags?” I asked. “Why bags?”
“I don't know,” answered
the janitor of my school as he sprinkled cat
litter on some vomit that was a Chick O Stick two hours earlier.
“Aren't you
supposed to be in class right now?”
But class answered nothing of my primary question: Can these “bags”
sufficiently sustain CHOCOLATE milk? For hours I sat there thinking
about
chocolate milk, which is usually what I did in class anyway. Until the
senior prom, of course. Then I switched to, you guessed it: candy.
I really can't remember the majority of the events of that day, other
than
than the chaos that spiraled off of this “bags” issue. That is, until
word
finally broke that we'd receive some information regarding the milk
snafu.
Now, I'm not sure if the next stage was universal to all schools, but at
one point in the day, my class was actually shown a VIDEO detailing
these
bags.
“Quiet!” shouted my goliath of a teacher (Who, by the way, looks much
shorter now that I've grown up. She's only about 6'8” as compared to the
7'0” I originally grossly overestimated). She then popped in an
instructional video on how to drink milk from a bag.
The film covered every conceivable detail and pitfall one could
encounter
while drinking milk from a container. This included: 1. How not to
spill and
2. Credits. The announcer continually explained the importance of
keeping
your thumb over the hole of the straw to ensure no milk flies out the
top.
This naturally backfired as children looked side to side, already
organizing
lunchroom wars that would ultimately make Louis Pasteur roll over in his
grave.
The announcer also tried to cite “astronauts
drink from these” as an
important reason as to why WE should.
“Look buddy,” I thought. “I'm 7 years old. That astronaut bit may have
distracted kids in the '50s, but let's get down to business. Am I going
to
be getting my usual fix of chocolate by noon?”
Then I saw a clip of a kid inadvertently squirting himself in the eye
with
chocolate milk. After I mourned such cavalier use of perfectly good
chocolate milk, I let out a sigh of relief.
Naturally we all adapted to the use of bags in the lunchroom. I recall
teachers circumnavigating the cafeteria to ensure we were correctly
using
the “thumb method.” Also, at least seven children “accidentally”
squirted
milk all over their friends' wheat rolls and balls of peanut butter.
And thus, I learned to deal with the first big change in my life.
Looking
back today, I consider it a learning experience. Just one of those
primary
stepping stones in my life, which ultimately turned that second grader
into
the mature, upstanding young man you see today.
Now if you'll excuse me, these Mario underpants are getting a little
haggard and I have to go wash my butt in the sink.
©2004 Tim Landry
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