Potato Morning

One potato, two potato. . .

by Lura Langenback

© 02/04/02

One potato, two potato,
three potato, four.
Couch potato, pew potato,
are there any more?

Somehow that little ditty didn't sound quite like I had remembered it, but that was what went through my mind upon awakening. Strange. Still, it wouldn't leave my head. Over and over, it kept streaming through my thoughts. Finally, pictures of potatoes watching tv, sitting in church, sitting at a desk, walking down the street, came waltzing along. I groaned. It was obviously going to be one of those days.

There are times in my life when I wish the 'Americanization' of things would come to a halt. Such a thing is the phrase 'couch potato'. Now if you have been around a few years, you already know what that means, don't you? For many years, that is exactly what I have been. A couch potato. What a picture! Yes sir, I knew that this scene would end up in your head too. All sizes and shapes of spuds, sitting in front of the television, watching mindless entertainment, in the name of 'spending some time with the family'. Yeah, right.

Another scene pops into my head. It's Sunday morning. A beautiful day has dawned, birds chirping, bees buzzing, and a line of potatoes head up the steps and into the big cathedral style church. Sacrilege, you say? Well, let's see. There's Grampa Snore over there. He usually ends up asleep about the time the pastor says 'Amen' and starts his sermon. Over on the other side is Sister Boughtthepew. She has attended this church since 'heck was a pup', or so they say. The good sister gets sort of upset if anyone sits in her spot. Brother Didntseenuttin and his family sit all the way in the back because they don't want to get too close to the front. Might get involved in something that way.

The church is populated with a lot of Whatgods. That family says they know who God is but the real reason they come to church is because it's politically correct. Father Whatgod is a city councilman, you see, and needs the image. Several generations of Whatgods come here because 'my daddy goes here and my granddaddy helped build this place'.

Oh yes, see that well dressed lady way up there in the front pew? That's the good Lady Nose-up. For some reason, she has a problem with folks who don't fit her idea of what's right. Trust me, nobody is right but Lady Nose-up. The Runtheshow family sits smack dab in the middle of the church. They don't want to miss a thing. Dad Runtheshow tells the pastor how much he is going to give each week according to how well the church follows his guidelines. After all, a well run church is what it takes. Mom Runtheshow is the chairperson of most committees, the ones that matter anyway. Wouldn't want someone to change anything, don't ya know. Brat Runtheshow is going to be a fine example of his dad real soon. His sister, Prissygirl, will have her debut into their social group someday.

We can't forget Mamma Gossip. She sits behind a few people so that she can get the story on what they do while the pastor preaches. And she can't forget to tell Sister Overthefence what she saw that young single man doing with his girlfriend. They were holding hands in church! Well, I never!

When the service is over, the pastor goes to wag the hands of all those potatoes who came to church today, mostly because they expect him to do that. And there they go on down the steps again.

The spuds go marching two by two, hurrah, hurrah.
The spuds go marching two by two, hurrah, hurrah.

On and on go those potatoes, dancing across my mind. What IS this, Lord?