Dinner in Farmingdale

Politicians

love to say at the end of the day,

like it’s some magical time

of epiphany. Why is nothing

quite as clear while having

lunch?

I've read “Lunchbox Shaming”

is a problem now in schools.

In my day, it seemed every kid

was cool with PBJ.

Sporting Joanie Loves Chachi

on your lunchpail?

That was the biggest

conundrum.

The old folks in this village

say everything was better

in the day. Again we’re back to “days.”

What was it

that was better? We never had our

faces on the phone. We talked at the

kitchen table,

grandma dishing beans

and buttered rolls,

granddad and his son

incognizant—bedeviled by the

newsprint: politics, stocks & scores.

They’ll get it figured out

they used to say. She didn’t know

if they were talking Harry Truman,

the Dow or Yogi Berra;

it’s over when it’s over

she’d always sigh,

a slumping sun that

meant it’s candle time.

Andreas Gripp

September 25, 2025

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