There’s egg on his face for stating that nobody delivers dairy products anymore

I am happy to report that in observing that the milkman had vanished from the urban scene I was mistaken. He lives.

In writing the other day about deprovements--so-called improvements that have actually deprived us of something better--I wrote:

“Another thing that has been deproved is milk delivery. It has, of course, vanished altogether. One of the constants of life used to be the daily milk delivery. You left the milkman a note or posted a sign saying how many quarts you wanted and whether you wanted any cream, and it was there on your doorstep, waiting for you when you got up. . . .”

I have received letters and testimonials from many contented customers of milkmen, and one or two from milkmen themselves.

I have even been Whittinghilled.

WHY DON’T YOU MOVE TO A KEEN NEIGHBORHOOD LIKE MINE SINCE 1961 MY MILKMAN EVERY MONDAY AND FRIDAY WILL LEAVE ANY ONE OF THE FOLLOWING ON MY BACK DOOR STEP LOW FAT MILK MULTI-VITAMIN MILK NON-FAT MILK COTTAGE CHEESE SLENDER COTTAGE CHEESE SOUR CREAM CHEDDAR CHEESE AMERICAN SWISS CHEESE LARGE DOUBLE A EGGS BUTTER MARGARINE ORANGE JUICE FRUIT PUNCH CHOCOLATE DRINK BUTTERMILK BACON ENGLISH MUFFINS CARNATION BREAD BOYSENBERRY ORANGE STRAWBERRY WILD MOUNTAIN BLACKBERRY YOGURT REDI WHIP COOKIES ICE CREAM FUDGE CHOCOLATE CHIP KID BARS ICE CREAM SANDWICHES FUDGESICKLES POTATO SALAD AND COLE SLAW WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? DICK WHITTINGHILL.

BOY, THAT LIST MAKES ME HUNGRY FOR A FUDGESICKLE.

I mean, boy, that list makes me hungry for a fudgesickle!

“Did you know that Adohr Farms still delivers milk?” writes Helene C. Reid. “Mine awaits me twice a week right on my front porch. They delivered in Inglewood when I was growing up; they delivered in Westchester when I first got married; and they are delivering now in Palos Verdes. . . .”

Marcia Ainsworth writes: “Have had faithful milk delivery for over 30 years in Altadena from Driftwood Dairy; still do.”

Winston Miller of Beverly Hills writes: “Be advised he is alive and well and delivering Adohr milk, eggs, margarine and butter to us twice a week at 8:30 a.m., as he has for the past 30 years. He is not only prompt, dependable and a font of neighborhood information, but will suit his delivery time to the customer’s wake-up hour.”

“You say milk delivery has vanished altogether,” writes Elizabeth E. Smith of Malibu. “Well, it has not. I am 88 years old and have never been without milk delivery. . . .”

“As a transplanted Midwesterner,” writes Susan M. Pritchard, “a most important link with my childhood memories is the milkman. Now, nearly nine years after the birth of my daughter, the Alta-Dena milkman still delivers every Thursday at 5:30 a.m. to our front porch in Los Angeles. . . . The reassurance of the milk’s arrival every Thursday makes my family seem like we belong; we are established; we are permanent . . . .”

My embarrassment is heightened by Doug Call, who sends a picture of himself clipped from the View section of April 17, several days before my column appeared.

Call’s picture was one that illustrated a story by Jeannine Stein on home delivery services. Among the many kinds available, she pointed out, are dog training, cooking instruction, massage, facials, hair styling, manicures, pizza and other fast foods, and your old reliable milk and dairy goods. At least three dairies--Adohr Farms in South Gate, Alta-Dena Certified Dairies in Hawthorne, and Carnation in Los Angeles--are still having dairy products delivered.

Call laments: “My wife acts occasionally as though I’ve vanished. I thought it was the normal progression of wedded bliss. Thanks to you, I find I’ve been deproved, along with a few hundred colleagues.

“To be deproved so quickly after being discovered (in the L.A. Times) proves the fickleness of fame; or that you read a different paper.” Touche.

Call, like most milkmen today, is an independent. He distributes milk for Adohr Farms under contract.

Alexander Weir Jr., chief research scientist for Southern California Edison, writes that Ernie Buresh, also an independent, has been delivering milk for 29 years, and is usually at Weir’s house by 6 a.m.

I wonder if there is a word for a person like me--someone who thinks that an institution no longer exists simply because he isn’t aware of it any longer.

I wonder how many other institutions of the 1950s and earlier are still around, even though I haven’t seen any evidence of them for years. Do schoolboys still bring Liberty magazine to the door?

Are there any more bread trucks? Does the knife sharpener still come around? I haven’t seen a Fuller brush salesman in decades. Is he still with us?

Obviously the milkman is a symbol of dependability, stability and permanence. He does not thrive in neighborhoods that are in constant upheaval. Where families reside for years, where children grow up, where milk is the staple instead of gin, the milkman still cometh. Even the dogs know not to bark at him.

I sometimes think that the barbarians are waiting on the outskirts of our village, that I can see our campfire burning in their predatory eyes. We have driven them back only temporarily; they are simply waiting for us to show a fatal weakness, then they will fall upon us.

Is it not also possible that other survivors of the good old days, like the milkman, are still out there in the twilight zone, waiting for us to signal them back in?

But I never see a milk truck in our neighborhood. Perhaps we don’t have enough stability and enough children.

Well, maybe I can get a manicure.