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Trudel’s Truth – A post for Mother’s Day | The Ordinary Potato
https://ordinarypotato.wordpress.com/2011/05/08/trudel
The brilliant insights, half-baked ideas, and other random thoughts of a common tater. Trudel’s Truth – A post for Mother’s Day. In 1933, my mother wrote in her diary, “There is no future for Jewish youth in Germany. I think I shall go to Palestine.” “Why would you leave? 8221; her family and friends asked? Today we know she was right. She didn’t go to Palestine, however. Instead, when family in Chicago sent her papers, she came here. Trudel Sails for New York. This entry was posted in Personal. You are ...
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It is not the wind | The Ordinary Potato
https://ordinarypotato.wordpress.com/2010/01/26/it-is-not-the-wind
The brilliant insights, half-baked ideas, and other random thoughts of a common tater. It is not the wind. It is not the wind. The house shudders. A cold front is moving across the Midwest. Tiny snow crystals blown by high winds have returned. I hear a wail as it comes down the street, the cold drafts seeping through the walls. But it is not the wind that I hear and it is not the cold that chills me and frightens me. How can the economy be restored without stimulating small business and entrepreneurs?
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A Few More Minutes | The Ordinary Potato
https://ordinarypotato.wordpress.com/2011/09/12/a-few-more-minutes
The brilliant insights, half-baked ideas, and other random thoughts of a common tater. A Few More Minutes. 8220;Would you like a few more minutes? 8221; How many times have you heard those words when a waitperson notices what he or she thinks is indecision in your face when she has finished rattling off the specials? I have been asked that question in tony restaurants in River North and in greasy spoons on the west side. “Would you like a few more minutes? 8221; “Yes! It is not that I lose track of time,...
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commentater | The Ordinary Potato
https://ordinarypotato.wordpress.com/author/commentater
The brilliant insights, half-baked ideas, and other random thoughts of a common tater. But here the skies were clear. As I looked back the way I had come, I saw only a clear blue sky. A brilliant, blinding blue. It seemed as though I could see forever. There was a brisk wind blowing. My perch was precarious, I was literally sitting on the Continental Divide. And so on this date I remember another day with clear blue skies. A day when the peace was shattered and our national sense of invulnerability w...
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Creative Plagiary* | The Ordinary Potato
https://ordinarypotato.wordpress.com/2011/03/09/creative-plagiary
The brilliant insights, half-baked ideas, and other random thoughts of a common tater. Translation brings me to an interesting subject. What is it that translators do? They take someone else’s work and bring it over into their own words. Isn’t it a kind of authorized plagiarism? Suddenly, I woke up in a sweat. A story had come to me in a dream. I yelled to one of my roommates: “Quick! 8220;I would never have figgered you to be a plagiarist,” he said. He reached up to his shelf and handed me a worn paperb...
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Clear Blue Skies | The Ordinary Potato
https://ordinarypotato.wordpress.com/2012/09/12/clear-blue-skies
The brilliant insights, half-baked ideas, and other random thoughts of a common tater. But here the skies were clear. As I looked back the way I had come, I saw only a clear blue sky. A brilliant, blinding blue. It seemed as though I could see forever. There was a brisk wind blowing. My perch was precarious, I was literally sitting on the Continental Divide. And so on this date I remember another day with clear blue skies. A day when the peace was shattered and our national sense of invulnerability w...
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A simple watch. | The Ordinary Potato
https://ordinarypotato.wordpress.com/2011/05/12/a-simple-watch
The brilliant insights, half-baked ideas, and other random thoughts of a common tater. Clean design, white face with burgundy dots for numbers. But as the hour hand touched each dot I noticed a small stick figure. Pop-up on the face. At each hour more figures appeared, corresponding to the number of the hour. Stick figures, but lithe and athletic. By three o’clock they began tossing a ball around. At four, another. They played as if their lives depended on it. Then I looked closer:. Or start all over?
