When I was a little girl, I lived in Incirlik AFB, Turkey. We lived for a year off base on the third floor of a very large apartment building. My parents spoke no Turkish and the landlady spoke no English, but somehow, they managed just fine. My dad was a lot cooler about the whole thing than my mom. But then, dad left and went to work on base each morning, while my mom had to deal with things like mice in the kitchen, Turkish toilets, and the man who walked his bear down the street each day. Yes, a bear. And if he saw you watching from your apartment window, he wouldn’t leave until you paid him. Or until the land lady shoo’d him off. After a year, my family moved onto base housing and my mom finally exhaled. I think she had been holding her breath the entire time.
“Hey there, nervous American mother. Pay me or I won’t leave.”
During our stint in Turkey, my parents did the grocery shopping every Saturday morning at the Incirlik AFB Commissary. The food was shipped into the base, which meant that a lot of the fresh food we received wasn’t that fresh by the time it ended up in our grocery cart. And fresh milk? Well, that was a luxury. It was served in the mess halls and in the cafeteria, but what we drank at home was what was available at the commissary…powdered milk. It was shipped in powdered form, mixed upon arrival, and sold from cartons in the refrigerated section.
My older brothers hated it. Me? Not so much. In fact, when we went on vacation to Athens and ate a meal on base, they served us fresh milk and I refused to drink it because it tasted funny. Rich, creamy, fresh pure milk tasted funny to me, because I had grown used to the taste of powdered milk.
Why am I telling you this story?
Because some of you are drinking powdered milk right now, unaware that that is NOT how milk is supposed to taste.
You drink powdered milk when you price yourself too low.
You drink powdered milk when you settle for “Good Enough.”
You drink powdered milk when you don’t push yourself to improve.
You drink powdered milk when you take the lazy route.
You drink powdered milk when you feel pressured to admire the unadmirable.
See, some of you have been feeding yourself a steady diet of powdered nonsense. It may be because you don’t realize there’s something better. Or maybe you’ve been told by someone that a powdered milk life is just as good as fresh. Or possibly you don’t think you deserve the real stuff.
Or maybe you entered a world/career/industry where the powdered milk philosophy was pushed on the masses until it was considered the norm.
Whatever the reason, I’m here to tell you Powdered Milk People that you’ve been missing out. This is not the 70’s and we are not on an Air Force Base in Turkey. (And if you DO happen to be reading this from an AFB in Turkey, it STILL applies)
Real, fresh creamy milk is right there for the taking. All you have to do is realize it.
It should be spelled “L-I-E.”
SO WAKE UP!
Raise those prices.
Never settle for “Good Enough.”
Push yourself to improve.
Avoid the lazy way.
Don’t admire horrible people.
And when you walk away from the powdered milk awfulness of mediocrity, I shall raise my glass of cold, fresh milk in salute.
Now, go be great. Oh, and stay away from bears.
xoxo
(PS: For those lactose intolerant, this metaphor still works. Feel free to substitute almond, soy, oat, coconut, goat, hemp, flax or rice milk. I don’t want you getting sick all over this article.)
(PPS: Yes, I know babies drink powdered formula and like it. But really, babies are kind of dumb.)
(PPPS: Except YOUR baby, of course. Your baby is wonderful.)
About the Author
Missy Mwac is a photographer/eater of bacon/drinker of vodka and a guide through the murky waters of professional photography. You can follow her social media links here: Facebook, Tumblr. This article was also published here and shared with permission.
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