...you quote somebody else. This is one of my favorite blog posts from a friend-of-a-family-college-friend. Ever notice how reading blogs can take you to interesting places? Many blogs have links to other blogs, and that's how I found this one. This guy keeps me laughing on a regular basis. And if I could write like HIM...
Udder Confusion
Hey kids! Sorry about the lack of posting for a while, I guess it's the price I pay for having nothing to say. For those of you who haven't read either my mother's post on the topic or the related Ann Arbor News story, or if you just want a slightly less biased (ha!) opinion on the matter, you've come to the right place. First off, I want to tell you to ignore those two links I gave you up there and listen only to the soothing sound of my typing hands, but I imagine that you've already read the news article and first-hand apology (I mean that in the Socratic sense, she's not sorry), so I'm just going to attempt to editorialize here.
Last Friday morning found my mum and sister-in-law waiting in a back alley in Ann Arbor with a largish crowd of folks with pony tails and Birkenstocks and maybe the occasional "man with no name"-style poncho, who had all driven (or perhaps carpooled to save on greenhouse emissions) there in old Volvos that are now held together only by bumper stickers which read "Free Tibet," "I break for Jake," and perhaps "I'd rather be in Ann Arbor." What, you may ask, could possibly have drawn these people away from their homeopathy boutiques and used record and book stores on this Friday morning? Milk. That's right, just like the stuff the rest of us buy at gas stations and grocery stores at our convenience. Well, almost just like it. What makes this milk so special? It's unpasteurized. Unpasteurized? Isn't pasteurization that process by which the bacteria in milk are killed? Yup, but let’s leave that for later. For now, let’s just content ourselves with the knowledge that two otherwise sane people whom I love very much were standing there on a Friday morning waiting to buy dirty milk out of the back of a truck. In an alley. On purpose. And then, suddenly, in the blink of an eye, nothing happened. Seriously. The sketchy milk truck didn’t show. Close to 100 hippies were stuck there in an alley, awaiting the arrival of a truck that simply would not arrive. Awkwardly, they stood around with their hands in their pockets, probably thinking to themselves that it’s getting a wee bit cold to wear Birkenstocks, and perhaps making awkward small talk to one another about how they never forgave their parents for not accepting their lifestyle.
What had become of the truck and its high-bacteria bounty? It had been stopped en route from the organic dairy farm by sheriff’s deputies serving a Michigan Department of Agriculture warrant to seize the sketchy milk and Farmer Rick’s cell phone. They also swiped his computer back at the farm house. Little did Farmer Rick realize that his weekly back-alley drop-offs had been to 99 honest crazies trying to get their bacteria fix, and one undercover agent from the Michigan Department of Agriculture. An undercover agent, baby! Every MDA worker dreams of this kind of assignment. “Son, I need someone to infiltrate an organic dairy co-op, and they tell me you’re the best. Here’s your ‘Jerry Lives’ t-shirt, and the keys to your 1979 Volvo. In the car you’ll find an 8-track tape with further instructions, along with some live bootlegs of Crosby, Stills, Nash, & Young.” Hahahaha, those jokers at the MDA, what will they come up with next?
According to the news article (which, by the way, more than pushes the limits of impartial journalism), Farmer Rick has done nothing illegal, and has yet to be charged with anything. Apparently there’s a loophole in Michigan law which allows the co-op to buy the milk by leasing part-ownership of the herd, or something like that.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m actually against laws that keep people from buying unpasteurized milk when they do so with full knowledge of what they’re buying. We can still legally buy alcohol and tobacco, can’t we? Sorry, I’m just not looking to the State of Michigan to save me from myself. That said, I personally find the whole ordeal to be about the funniest thing I’ve heard all month. I’m sorry to those of you who’d already heard the whole story, I’ll try to post something else in a timely manner. Until then, I wish you well.
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