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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