spud

Well, that time of year is here again. Time to start throwing Christmas Potatoes. The site I had up for the last 3 years went dark because 100 bucks a year was stretching the budget. I will do my best to provide some more resources like PDF versions of the story and spud notes. 2010 marks the 29th year for the fact of throwing potatoes. Kinney's telling of the tale has been around since 1984.

I found out also that someone else published a book for children called "The Christmas Potato." The author even has a Facebook page. As far as our two stories I don't think they are anything alike. I wish her the best

Our version of the story is meant to be shared and the tradition passed from generation to generation and friend to friend much like a mug of weasel broth on a frosty winter's morn.

The Story of the Christmas Potato
as told by Kinney Isaacs

Once upon a time there was a little boy named Riley. He lived in a town called Topeka, which means, "a good place to dig potatoes."
Riley had three favorite things, and as long as he had those three things he would always be happy.








El Beano was one of Riley's favorite things. El Beano was a green toy army truck that Riley got for Christmas when he was two years old. Riley never had a pet when he was growing up. He didn't need one. He had El Beano. Riley played with him every day. El Beano was better than a pet. He didn't talk back. He never had to go outside. He would play whatever game Riley wanted to.






When Riley wasn't playing with El Beano the little truck rested on Riley's bed with Pepper, the teddy bear, and Riley's three lucky pillows.



Another one of Riley's favorite things was his toy space helmet. More than anything else in the world Riley wanted to be an astronaut when he grew up. Back then no one had gone to the moon, and the space shuttle was just something out of a science fiction movie. At night Riley dreamed of life as an astronaut. He imagined visits to strange and weird planets. He dreamed of beings from other worlds and visits from the alien saucer people from outer space. Riley dreamed of saving the day and of the hero's kiss he would receive from Annette who was his favorite Mouseketeer.


If Riley couldn't be an astronaut he wanted to work in his grandfather's grocery store.

Riley's number one favorite thing wasn't a thing at all. It wasn't something you could have every day.












It was something you had to wait almost an entire year for. You could dream about it, but you still had to wait.






You had to wait all the way until Thanksgiving. It wasn't turkey. Riley's number one favorite thing was a feeling, and only one thing caused it.















Christmas lights! Every Thanksgiving meant it was time to flip the switch that meant a whole month of Christmas lights.











Christmas lights made Riley feel his number one most favorite thing. One time Riley tried to explain to his big sister and his little brother how the Christmas lights made him feel.

"Well it's like this," he said, "a lot of different things all mixed up. You know how you feel when you hug Mom or Dad, well, it's like that and more. It's like when you wake up from a good dream or eat a big hunk of fudge. It's like lying in front of the fan or jumping off the fence. It does to your brain what songs do to your ears. It's all the best things jumbled up together into one big ball of stuff. It's just that Christmas feeling."
When Riley tried to explain they just looked at him. He knew they understood even if they didn't think they did. They must.












Once the Christmas tree was decorated, Riley didn't need TV or books or relatives. With the lights on the tree all you had to do was stare,and your brain took over. The lights let Riley see the feeling and not just feel it.

Riley would place one of his lucky pillows under the tree and don his space helmet. Clutching El Beano Riley would gaze up into the tree and watch the lights. Thoughts would flood his brain. Plain and simple he just liked to looked at those lights.


Sometime before Christmas the whole family would go for a car ride. When Riley saw the lights all over town he wished there was some way he could say thank you to all the people who put up lights and let him feel his favorite thing.












The best way to say thank you would be to march up to the front door, knock, and tell the people. Because he was little boy, Riley didn't think his parents would let him do that.







If his handwriting was better than a C- he could send thank you cards. But even if people could read his handwriting, who would pay for all the stamps?
Riley wouldn't admit it to anyone, but for once in his life he was stumped. Every year at Christmas time Riley would try to think of a way to say thank you only to give up and say instead, "Maybe I'll figure something out next year."














Years came and went and Riley kept getting older. He lost El Beano and traded his space helmet for a movie camera. Riley found out that his life was different than he planned. He accepted it. But no matter what happened Thanksgiving came and brought with it the lights that Riley loved to watch. At least that didn't change and Riley never forgot about wanting to say thank you.

Then one November as he was driving home from work, he saw the first Christmas lights of the year. It was like getting hit in the head with a hammer or having a big rock fall on you.



If, when you got a good idea, a light bulb really formed above your head, Riley's light bulb would not have fit in the car-the idea was that good.







Riley thought, "Why not a potato?" And that's when the potato part of the Christmas potato started. Why not throw a potato into the yard of a house with pretty lights?







Riley realized that if someone came out in the morning and found a potato in the yard it would be a mystery. The people would say, "Who put this potato in my yard?"














So that people would know what the potato meant Riley made little Christmas cards that explained he just wanted to say thank you and "Merry Christmas." He wrapped the card and the potato in plastic wrap and tied each end with ribbon.



On Christmas Eve Riley filled a basket with potatoes and drove all over town. When he saw a house with Christmas lights he threw a potato into the yard. Finally, after years and years of trying and never really giving up Riley had found a way to say thank you.




Today, Christmas lights still give Riley that "Christmas light" feeling. Each year more and more children and adults around the country throw Christmas potatoes so that friends, neighbors, and even strangers know that their unselfish efforts during the holiday season are appreciated.
A big part of Christmas is letting people know how we feel. Wouldn't the world be a better place if some of our "Christmas feelings" stayed around all year long and spread to everybody? Maybe we can all work on that one next.

So, remember, if some morning you wake up and your yard is full of potatoes, it's just people saying, "Thank you and Merry Christmas."
Peace.
The note we attach to the spuds goes something like this:

No one is quite sure how the tradition of the Christmas Potato began. Many believe it began in the later half of the 20th century when a young man tossed seasonal greetings wrapped around uncooked potatoes into the yards of houses decorated with Christmas lights. It was his way of saying thank you and Merry Christmas.
Before the advent of the Christmas Potato there was no way to easily thank those who brighten our holiday season with their unselfish efforts. Now each year children and adults alike look forward to the annual pitching of the holiday spud.
But why a potato? The young man grew up in a town called Topeka which means a good place to dig potatoes.