Milky The Marvelous Milking Cow (Kenner, 1977)

 

Here is a toy that is completely and totally unique in the long history of toy collecting (I am assuming that in prehistory, people hoarded and fought over neat-looking rocks).  It is simultaneously the most craptastic and beautiful toy you will see (all at the same time), in a way unlike anything else, from then or now.  

Now, before we go any further, get ready for the best 30 seconds you will spend today (especially if you are at work), so don't miss this:

Let's talk about this commercial for a moment--can you imagine the boardroom table discussion? "Just get some banjo music, and list out what this toy does."  "But sir, it doesn't even rhyme!" "Nevermind that, we have another 135 commercials to make by lunch!"

There was a whole percentage of kids who saw that commercial--who grew up on farms or in rural areas--who were completely unfazed, and responded with "oh well...is it time for Captain Caveman yet?"  While the rest of us viewers went WAIT WHAT JUST HAPPENED? Maybe you went on a field trip in grade school, and maybe you milked a cow once....and maybe not.

Either way, Kenner to the rescue!  Finally, a toy would be available to give kids that exact experience, and without having to get up at 3 in the morning to do it.  But how to best replicate this activity? You couldn't just fill a plastic cow with actual milk; it would instantly get stinky.  (Think about how many plastic lunch box Thermoses you went through as a kid; you could get evil spirits out before you could ever get the milk-rot completely gone.  In all of nature, only eggs are more powerful in their unrelenting stench.  And...skunks of course, but I'm getting way off track.)  The answer came in what Kenner called "milk pills."  Unfortunately, I can't tell you their chemical ingredients, but I bet it's calcium something-or-other and some kind of starch or pigment.  You literally disconnected the udders and placed a pill inside.  When the water passed over it, it released a thin white liquid into the pail, as you saw in the ad.  

Pull this.  Hey, photographer! Rude!

Then, grab a hold of this...hey! Don't get in a lady's business!

You could even order extra milk pills from Kenner, at the rate of 40 shipped for ONE DOLLAR. (Turns out, they really did care.)

At that point, we have a whole new set of problems, because in the late 70's, you couldn't even give a kid a container of paste (or a jar of Play-Doh) without it going straight into their mouths.  Kenner wasted no time, in about 32 places, to tell you not to actually drink the liquid that you ran through Milky.  Here is Milky's bucket, for example:

And, it's all over the paperwork we will see shortly, but, you know without even thinking about it what kids did. What I want to know is, did it cause any sickness, injury, or eventual lives of crime? Heck, or even Aqua-Dots-level lawsuits.

They were just as insistent on the front end about the water you use with Milky.  Her trough also has a subliminal message:

Once again, you just know that kids experimented with making Milky drink the wrong things.  I have no doubt that several poor Milkys sucked up paint, gasoline, or even carbonated water, and then blew up like a super soaker.

Here is what was included with your new friend:  a trough to drink from, a pail, and a plastic playmat very similar to what was included with Play-Doh sets of the day (also Kenner).

Put it all together, and she stands majestically, awaiting your cold hands:

Now, let's look at the included paperwork.  Here are the instructions, meant for parents:

Simply disconnect the udder, just like a real cow!

The second page is down to business:  "IT'S MILKING TIME." Can you even get through this page without laughing?

And yes, I am 12 years old.

The one thing I am not brave enough to do is to try and go through the motions with mine and get it to "moo," being afraid I will break it, but I really want to hear what she sounds like. The instructions say, "If Milky does not moo, shake her gently," also just like a real cow!

But that's not all! Being Kenner, and being the late 70's, a color storybook was included for kids, featuring "Marko and Melissa Milkdrop."  (Don't worry, Kenner, Star Wars was coming.) And here it is:

Quoth the Milky, "Mooo!"

"And then we meet our tragic deaths, ARRGGGHHH"

Is there anything more adorable and unabashedly 1970's pureness than that?

Also: still 12 years old.

This is the part where I admit to you that I actually own two of this toy.  I have the complete, boxed one, and a loose Milky on top of a display case (although that just sounds wrong, or at least very messy).  So, why do I love this toy so much?

I am probably a bit biased.

It's a complicated mix of nostaliga for simpler times, appreciating the absurdity of it as a toy, the braveness and innovation to produce it, and....well, just look at that face:

"Mooo!"