All in the Bunker Family

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=By= Chuck Orloski

Archie and Edith Bunker (Carroll O’Connor and Jean Stapleton)

Why is the TPP not front and center in the debates? A question poetically tackled by Chuck Orloski with his Archie Bunker screen set.

Midnight in D.C. –

Smithsonian History Museum glass glare,

no one around but for security cameras.

The Bunker family stayed up late,

emerged from bunker,

and took seats upon favorite chairs.

Archie’s politics stunk for Edith,

she actually “pulled her weight,”

but Archie insisted he must find out

the Iowa caucus results prior to

spinning Glen Miller records

and “pack it in for the night.”

Wearing pink bathrobe and pumps,

Edith complained,

“Why Archie… why don’t you

do something useful and sneak

over to the Capitol and find out how

the Trans Pacific Partnership fares?”

 .

“Nag, nag, nag,” thought Archie,

“and the dingbat barely passed 8th grade!”

“Tell me who gives Edith such ideas?

Who gets to see the T.P.P.?

Who the hell has time to read it?

Who will let me inside Xerox room?”

 .

Mad to a killing point,

the couple stared across empty hallway

and nobody in the Homeland laughed.

“You know, Arch, uh, Trump lost Iowa tonight!”

 .

“Ho, ho, ho!” Triumphant laughter!

“I told lazy son-in-law Meathead

that Dubuque Jews won’t go for Carson!”

 .

Momentarily,

Edith pondered their Seacaucus wedding.

She lived unawares on TV for seven years.

She learned compliance with majorities

as well as any housewife did before her time. .

A Security Guard’s footsteps,

a Hoover/Cruz/Rubio/Jeb tap-pity-tap-tap,

and the Bunkers fled for bunker below.

 .

Under Archie’s supervision,

Edith slammed pick into tunnel wall

and watched Potomac droplets enter space.

“C’mon, Edith, if ‘ya want me to read the T.P.P.

over at the Rotunda Bundestag-dunda,

you gotta dig – grab Iowa by the corn!”

 .

“Iowa.., Arch?   Why I thought all along our

producers wanted to see green, not hawkeyes!”

 .

Perhaps it was Archie’s only way

to express Free Trade Treaty love?

Frustrated,

He shook off lead (Pb) contaminated

tunnel mud from Dickie trousers,

his eyes turned red, moaned,

“Think I’ll go to Kelsey’s Bar,

chug cold ones, watch the Super Bowl

and pray none of them fruity-tootie

Ching Chongs park their Pacific Rim

asses next to mine!”

Author’s note:   In 2002, along with my two sons (ages 11 and 6) and a work friend, we toured the Smithsonian Museum of History. Of all the historical artifacts and exhibits at hand, older son Dan most remembered the “All in the Family” display, and younger Joseph was fascinated with the Greyhound Bus interior toilet.


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