There’s a particular image a lot of people over a certain age can conjure instantly: a glass milk bottle sitting on the porch step in the early morning, beads of condensation running down the sides, the paper cap slightly domed from the cream that had risen to the top overnight. It arrived before anyone was awake, dropped off by a milkman who’d already been driving his route for hours. Today, that same household gets its milk from a plastic jug pulled off a refrigerated shelf, bought once a week alongside everything else on the grocery list. The product hasn’t changed much — it’s still milk — but almost everything around it has.
Whatever Happened to the Glass Milk Bottle on the Porch?
