To The Editor:

My grandfather ate breakfast at the same diner for something like thirty years, and the guy still couldn't get his order right half the time. "At least I know what I'm getting," he used to say, then complain about the eggs anyway. Every morning, same thing. My grandmother used to tell him to just go to the place on the corner, they've got good eggs, and he'd wave her off.

Connecticut Democrats have held the State Senate since 1996. Thirty years. Somehow the eggs still come out wrong. Electric bills, taxes, the cost of just living here, same complaints, different year, and then everybody lines up and orders the same thing again anyway. You'd think after decade two somebody would've noticed a pattern.

Habits are habits, I understand that. My grandfather liked that stool, bad eggs and all. There's something comfortable about knowing exactly what you're going to be annoyed about before you even sit down.

At some point though, you gotta go somewhere else if you want different eggs. Nobody's gonna order for you. And nobody at that diner is in a hurry to fix them either. Why would they? You keep showing up.

Antonio Formica

Sandy Hook