Gone from Our Lexicon

My Grandpa Jess was a truck driver and a flyweight boxer. He was a man's man who wore heavy work shoes and carried a big steel lunch pail and a bright red Thermos to work every day. The words Thermos and the lunch pail have always conjured up pictures of my grandfather for me. My grandfather died when I was six.

I carried Grandad's Thermos with me to school in my lunch box up until I was in the second or third grade. It was, not only a reminder of him, but also a great way to take soup to school so I could have a hot lunch. I was a fussy eater and so school hot lunch was never an option for me before the fourth grade when I started growing out of my pickiness. There was a comfort about my lunchbox and Grandad's Thermos. More than the promise of a satisfying meal, I felt like I had a family member with me.

My grandfather is gone and lunch pails have ceased to exist, except on dusty shelves where collectors hoard them and folks sell them for ridiculous sums of money on eBay. Steel lunch pails are sought after collectibles for people with far too much discretionary money rather than symbols of hard working blue collar folks. That image is now replaced with high tech nylon and plastic.

I carry a lunch box to work, but it is no lunch pail. It is one of those blue, nylon covered plastic boxes that I can put a frozen block of some reusable gel into to keep my food cold. If I want a hot lunch, I simply microwave it. Suffice to say, it doesn't hold the same comfort that my steel Muppets lunch box did.

I certainly don't carry a Thermos either. We do have one and take it with us on long drives to Maine. My husband fills it with coffee to keep him awake on the long drive. It is a green, industrial looking thing reminiscent of the rough and tumble bottles of the 50's, 60's and 70's. No, now I have a stainless steel thermal mug that I fill with coffee to comfort me on my commute to work. Yet, it truly isn't the same.

And I admit, the things we have for food transport are much better now and allow us a much better choice of things we can eat for lunch at the job site. I don't think I could live without my Korean instant Ramen bowl that I frequently tote with me to the office. Nor do I think I could live without my lightweight lunch box.

But I miss the sight of a well-worn lunch pail, replete with dents and a little rust. I miss the slosh of a red Thermos swinging in time with Grandpa's steady gait. I miss the comfort of my childhood and the things that remind me of it, all gone from our cultural lexicon.