The funniest thing about winter, other than leathery-skinned tanned people fainting when the mercury drops below 50, is the milk and bread crowd.

The milk and bread crowd probably had something to do with the panic on Wall Street that caused the Great Depression, or at least the trend now to go gluten-free because panicked grocery store managers don't want to contend with the maddening mobs when the least hint of snow is broadcast on the television or radio.

The milk and bread crowd is an odd assortment of folks who believe that somehow milk and bread is going to carry them through the one to one-and-a-half inches of snow we get maybe once or twice a year if we're lucky.

I often ponder, but until now have not put it on cyber pen and paper, the poor planning that goes behind simply getting milk and bread and ignoring a whole list of other, more beneficial foodstuffs you could get when the schools get ready to padlock the doors at the weakest scent of snow in the air.

The logical explanation for the run on the bread and dairy aisle is the folks have the stuff to put between the two pieces of bread to make what is known as a sandwich. However, in pursuit of poor planning, forgot the bread and the milk, its pearly, cold goodness making the sandwich easier to slide down the gullet.

A sandwich is often a substantial meal if it is accompanied with the right ingredients — peanut butter, lettuce and tomato, bananas and as I most recently discovered macaroni and cheese.

Don't be hatin' on the mac and cheese sammich until you've tried it. It's a taste treat, especially when lathered with luscious Duke's mayo (I didn't realize until recently there was any other brand of mayo on the market).

The bread and milk crowd's logic falls apart when we start talking ice storm. As much of a winter stoic as I am, I don't even like ice storms and that's simply because I have no shoes with tread, although I have ordered a couple of pair that probably won't make it here until winter turns to an ugly 80 degrees.

Ice storms mean power outages and power outages mean no refrigeration and personally I have no taste for warm milk.

Bread can be tricky. I've seen bread that goes bad within a couple of days of buying and I've seen bread that can live through the nuclear holocaust.

That's why I'm not a big proponent of joining the milk and bread crowd unless I happen to be at the store when there's a slight hint of a couple of snow flakes falling. Then it's only to see if there is a fistfight over the last gallon of 1 percent or a shootout for the last loaf of Roman Meal.

So while the maddening crowd is battling over bread and milk, I'm looking for pistachios, peanuts and M&Ms, things you don't have to worry about perishing as the snow beautifully falls and the young'uns throw that hard-fought-for loaf of bread outside for the birds.

Soup and canned beans can actually be eaten without heating and so can hot dogs, although these days I'm practically vegetarian so the raw hot dog eating is basically out of the question.

I'm sure you're thinking what's wrong with me — raw hot dogs and mac and cheese sandwiches slathered with the creamy goodness of Duke's — that's a question that I don't think a lifetime of honest, on the couch therapy could account for.

All I know is, unless you're trying to set the record for the most French toast made on a cold winter's day, your best bet is to hoof it over to the aisle where there's fruits, nuts, crackers (everything's great when it sits on a Ritz) and most anything from the candy shelf except Twizzlers and Starburst. Get the canned beans and canned cream corn — I can't tout enough the tasty goodness that is creamed corn — and forget the milk and bread. Forget the milk and bread because it's Chicken Little the sky is falling madness at its finest and it's the funniest thing about winter there is, except the leathery-skinned tanned people who faint when the mercury falls below 50 — Lance Martin