“Sticks” 8/14/25

A few weeks ago, as HR and I were pursuing the aisles at the grocery store, I spotted up on a shelf, high above the more popular eye-level products, an item that quickly hurled me back through the decades into my childhood—potato sticks!

This yummy (and of course highly processed) treat often found its way into my lunches back in the late 1950’s and 60’s. (Am I really that old?)

I have four brothers. And potato sticks were cheap. But I loved them … a culinary delicacy! (I’m from VERY rural North Georgia.)

Or maybe I’m just reminiscing that I loved them, when in reality I’m nostalgically mixing up potato sticks with the concept of home, Mama and an “everything-is-right-in-the-world” yesteryear cosmovision.

I asked Robert if he remembered them.

“Yes, of course,” he answered, but with his eyes more focused on fancy Utz Chips and Dot’s Homestyle Pretzels ($7.99 a bag, seriously?) I wondered if he really did.

There’s nothing fancy about potato sticks. They are probably rejects from potato chip manufacturing who find their way, smashed, second level, into poor little matchstick-like treats for very rural, backward children who consider them delicacies.

Back at Kroger, I tiptoed up and up and managed to reach them, handling them oh so carefully as I sauntered back down to earth and positioned my old friends like little senior citizens in our buggy. I invited them home.

At the lunch table, a bit nervous, the sticks chose to sit beside another childhood staple, the utilitarian, everyman hot dog.

What a joy it was to reconnect with friends I haven’t seen in decades. We sat there, enjoying each other’s company, until they slowly disappeared into my … consciousness.

The only difference was the packaging. They’re now sold in more modern bags instead of yesterday’s cardboard canisters.

But then again, my packaging has changed pretty significantly over the years as well.