If It Ain't Broke, Don't Fix It

In a world where technology is developing so quickly you can miss an upgrade if you blink, this phrase has almost become obsolete. But like a true baby boomer, we tend to hold on to those things that we like, growling when they dare to make a change to them. I know that change is good and necessary and prevents stagnation, and I do my part to adapt and keep up, but there are some things that are sacred and should be exempt from the change process.

While driving to Charlotte for an airline flight, I got a severe craving for a vanilla milkshake. This happens often when I am on a road trip. It happened to be Christmas day, so I justified the purchase, and subsequent calories, by convincing myself I deserved a treat for the holiday. I am an expert at justifying food purchases, especially those in the dessert category. I have run the gamut of excuses from "I skipped lunch so a Dairy Queen blizzard is about the same calories" to "I worked out extra hard today so that Wendy's Frosty has already been burned off."

I swore off McDonald's years ago. It was a conscious decision that came about during the time that I realized I was not going to live forever. You reach that point where you calculate that you may have already lived the first half of your life and that you better change your ways if you want to survive the estimated second half. It is also during this same revelation that many quit smoking, start a diet, join a health club and face the fact that it's time to have that first colonoscopy.

I spotted the giant golden arches and exited the interstate to get my fix. I was a little taken aback by the girl who finally acknowledged me after I stared at her back for a good two minutes. But hey, it was Christmas, and I sympathized with the fact that they had to work at all. When she did turn to face me, it was immediately apparent that she was ill, most probably with a raging cold. The red nose was not her Rudolph impersonation and the exaggerated sniffle was very unappetizing. But I was here on a mission, so I plodded forward. "I'd like a medium vanilla shake, please," I stated with a smile. She took my $3.00 and handed me my seven cents change. I knew my shake would cost $2.93. That is what it always costs once you add the tax to the $2.69 list price.

After she handed over my change, I assumed she would fill my medium-sized cardboard cup with that creamy, vanilla heaven. But she just stood there, working up another good sniffle along with a phlegmy cough. Finally, another employee, a manager of sorts based on her shirt of a different color, said, "Are you going to make that milkshake?"

"No," the little red-nosed girl replied, " I don't know how to do the whipped cream right."

Whipped cream? What whipped cream? There is no whipped cream in a McDonald's vanilla shake. I watched with horror as the manager grabbed a clear plastic cup and started to fill it with vanilla shake mix. First of all, that cup was much smaller than the usual medium-sized cardboard cup. I quickly surmised I was about to be shorted several ounces of my vanilla dream. She then placed a clear plastic lid, with a big hole in the middle, over the cup. I felt my spine stiffen as she reached for the whipped cream can, shook it violently, and stuck the nozzle down in that hole. "I can handle this," I tried to calm myself. Whipped cream is not the worst thing in the world. I will stir it into the ice cream and it will all be okay. And just as I thought I was ready to take hold of my treasured delight, she did the unthinkable. She stuck a spoon into a giant jar of maraschino cherries and slid one into the top of the mound of whipped cream.

I could hold my tongue no more. "What happened to the regular milkshake," I blurted out. "Why is there whipped cream and a cherry in there?" She did her best to mask her annoyance with me as she replied, "It changed about a week ago." As she tried to hand me what was now supposedly the new and improved McDonald's Vanilla Milkshake, I commanded her to remove the cherry which she did in a curt service-without-a-smile maneuver.

I retreated from the store feeling used and abused. How dare they change the vanilla milkshake that had served me so well for so many years? There was nothing wrong with the traditional shake. Now I was paying the same amount for less product, it was served in a plastic cup that would take a billion years to disintegrate, I had to stir all this ridiculous whipped cream into the mixture to make it disappear and God knows those sticky sweet maraschino cherries just plain suck. And it was only a half cherry to boot!

 I know I sound like a crochety old hag and as the first of the Boomers are turning 65, some of us may be just that. But darn it, if you have a product that has worked just fine, leave it alone. If that plain vanilla milk shake has been satisfying sweet teeth and putting smiles on faces since that first Mickey D's opened its doors, just keep pumping them out. For heaven's sake, if ain't broke, don't fix it.