Sack of potatoes

In November 2000, I acquired a 10 lbs. sack of potatoes. Like your average high school "pregnancy" project -- the one where you have to carry a raw egg around without breaking it for a whole weekend -- I've been carrying this sack of potatoes with me everywhere, with no relief. My back is killing me.

These potatoes are different from your usual spuds, as they change in weight and quality depending on bizarre environmental factors. For example, when George W. Bush was sworn into office, the potatoes got heavier. Every time his voice came through the radio, they got heavier. When he made cabinet appointments, they got heavier. And when the Iraq War started, they got heavier and rotten and smelly.

I've been sick of these damn potatoes for years. What I want most is to open the bag and huck a few out at some choice politicians, but that can be a messy option. I've been tempted to leave the sack at the US border and migrate to another country where I hope I'd never get saddled with 10 lbs of potatoes again. "We should stay and make hashbrowns!" Ray would say, more or less. "It's hard to make hashbrowns out of rotten potatoes," I'd respond. "Well," he countered, "...we'll make rotten hashbrowns and feed them to those choice politicians!"

Yesterday, the load got lighter. Me and my potatoes went to the polls and voted, and so did a lot of other people with 10 lbs. on their back. By last night, my sack was lighter, easier to manage, for the first time in years. I was even able to take a few out and huck them just for fun, at no one in particular. And my back pain is easing just a little.

My goal for the next two years: get good at making hashbrowns, even rotten hashbrowns, so I can be rid of these taters in 2008!