Saturday, August 22, 2009

Couch Potato

Today while walking from one of our office buildings to the other a couple of doors down, I spied a potato lying on the sidewalk. A russet potato.

It isn't unusual to see trash lining our sidewalks and streets in Southern California and I kind of get desensitized to that but seeing a potato wakes me up. What would a potato be doing sitting on the sidewalk?

This poor pathetic thing was just lying there abandoned. A potato's lot in life definitely seems destined not for glamour; even alternate names for it like spud and tuber are undistinguished. The best one can hope for is to become a french fry, when it will have its chance to shine like the sun in golden glory.

The unflattering characterization carries forward to the animal kingdom, where a potato personified is a "couch potato." Or, a "sack of potatoes."

I don't know where this is going but I felt compelled to write something after seeing that lonely potato on the sidewalk. But then it really looks no better stacked up in the produce section at the grocery store, either - it's got no color, it's got no shape, it's got no pizazz.

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