Nubian Goat Milk

I'm drinking Nubian Goat Milk from the local farmer's market. I don't even want to google what a Nubian goat is. I want to believe that Nubian goats are straight from Tibet and are blessed by the Dali Lama. I want to think that rusty colored chicken eggs will bring harmony to the world. I want to drive an old Chysler, smell vinyl seats, honk the horn, a band of shining chrome. I want to watch the flags jitter in the stiff breeze at the first stage campsite below Mount Everest. Hit Sputnik with a cored maple bat. Stare at a box of oranges outside HEB while my daughter sells Thin Mints to happy women with giant balloons left over from Valentines, "Big Lover". For a snack, I'll eat Thai Lime Rice Corn Chips, and wish I had chef Ming Tsai's savory Mango-Pineapple salsa.