The bread and milk conspiracy
Sunday, February 02, 2014 12:00 AM
If you are reading this, it means you survived.
Somehow, against all odds, you made it through. I knew we could do it.
That’s right folks, we experienced Snowmageddon 2014, we braved it and we came out the other side, with lots of excess bread and milk.
As you are no doubt abundantly aware, Greenwood and the Lakelands got a dusting of snow late Tuesday night and into Wednesday morning. Freezing temperatures also led to icy conditions in spots on many area roads and streets.
While many area residents — especially youngsters — likely enjoyed the “winter storm,” it also caused more than a few headaches for numerous school decision-makers, drivers, emergency responders and others.
That said, the hype and hysteria surrounding Snowmageddon 2014 — at least in Greenwood and the Lakelands — far exceeded the actual accumulation and snow-related problems we experienced. One glance at what happened in the Atlanta area will let you know we got off easy in the Lakelands.
Still, we did our best to get excited about the snow, didn’t we?
It shouldn’t come as a surprise. Unbeknownst to many, there is a law on the books in most Southern states which requires us to lose our minds when even the smallest amount of frozen precipitation falls from the sky.
Schools must close! Cars must go careening off the road! Sidewalks, streets, garages and the hardwood floors in your living room must be salted! Sports editor Scott Chancey must get arrested for skinny-dipping in Lake Greenwood, telling the cops he was “trying to join the Polar Bear Club!!!”
Ok, maybe not that last one, but you get my point.
AND THEN THERE IS PERHAPS the most puzzling aspect of Snowmageddon 2014 (or any of the previous Snowmageddons): The phenomenon of bread and milk.
If you have lived in the South for any length of time, you know the drill: If the weatherman calls for snow — and I mean even the slightest, most light and fluffy, perfectly white little dusting of snow imaginable — everyone and their mama runs to the car and hauls ass to the grocery store to buy bread and milk.
Why do we do this? Why bread and milk?
The grocery store is filled with all kinds of food. Steaks, hamburgers, angel hair pasta, grapes, bratwurst, Pop-Tarts, watermelon, beer, apple pie, Pepsi, fish, chicken, Cheez-Its, strawberry banana Go-Gurt and on and on. You name it, they’ve got it. THE PLACE IS LITERALLY FULL OF DELICIOUS FOOD.
So, why in the world do we climb all over each other for bread and milk when an inch of snow is in the forecast?
Former Index-Journal staff writer Jennifer Colton-Jones posted on Facebook this week she thinks the bread companies are secretly behind any reports of snow in the South.
Really, how much bread and milk can you possibly eat? Have you ever had a milk sandwich? I wouldn’t recommend it.
Milk is what I put on ice cream to make a milkshake. I also put it on Cocoa Pebbles, because it turns the milk into chocolate milk at the end. However, I don’t absolutely have to drink it when there’s frozen water in my yard.
On Tuesday afternoon, we sent reporter Matt Bruce and photographer Maddy Jones out into the teeth of the melee, straight to the grocery stores.
Ever seen the movie “Zombieland?” That’s what the bread and milk aisles looked like in the photos Maddy brought back to the paper. It looked like Whoville after the Grinch raided the Christmas presents.
On the eve of Snowmageddon, I went to the Municipal Building to cover a City Council meeting. I rode the elevator with a city official, who shall remain nameless. The conversation turned to the impending Snowmageddon and he said his wife had to run to the grocery store.
“Bread and milk?” I asked.
“No. Wine,” he replied, and we both had a laugh.
She had the right idea. Forget the bread and milk, go for the good stuff.
So, as the snow fell lightly Tuesday night, I broke out the snow plow, er, I mean hopped into the car and headed to the Mill House on Maxwell Avenue.
Bread and milk? Please.
I rode out Snowmageddon 2014 with a pizza with meatballs, mushrooms and extra cheese.
Trainor is the senior staff writer at the Index-Journal. Contact him at 864-943-5650; email firstname.lastname@example.org. You can follow him on Twitter @IJCHRISTRAINOR. Views expressed in this column are those of the writer only and do not represent the newspaper's opinion.