Maria Fofia: March 2009

I'm not tech-savvy enough to know how to track readership or to log how many people read this blog. The only people I know who read this are the ones who leave comments, so my posts tend to be more and more skewed towards overly personal/way TMI ramblings aimed at select Ohsiek family members and a few friends. So I may end up oversharing and embarassing myself. Maybe you'd prefer to remain anonymous and watch my posts turn more and more humiliating. For example, I was going to do a post about my old toenail polish, but then realized that not everyone would "appreciate" it in the way that, say, Amy or Sonja would. Yes, Crystelle has posted pictures of her bloody toenails and trench mouth, but I'm not brave enough to do that.

Maybe one day I'll do a reader poll and you can tell me all about yourself.

And since Joe has yet to post anything I've kind of appropriated it as my own. Any requests out there for a Joe post??

Saturday night our ward had a veggie derby, sponsored by the EQ. The concept was to attach wheels to the veggie of your choice and send it down a race track and see what happens. It was basically a bunch of former boy scouts living out their wildest pinewood derby dreams. Video cameras and multiple stopwatches (the iphone kind) recorded the action. Participants were allowed, or rather encouraged, to modify their vegetable/fruit/tuber/root. Wheels and axles would be provided. The only stipulation was that the end result had to be at least 50% veg.

I was impressed with the level of creativity on display, ranging from Lego stunt drivers and Peeps passengers mounted onto various veggies, to rooty replicas of the Black Pearl and watermelon rockets. None were so impressive, though, as Joe's Mr. Potato Head. Not sure what the final weight was but, with a massive pipe wrench duct taped to it, that potato had to weigh at least 10 pounds. Pinewood derby rules allow a certain amount of weight to be added to the car to help propel it down the track. Joe took that logic and applied it to the potato, and conducted scientific tests to ensure the wrench was indeed less than 50% of the volume of the potato.

Vehicles were sent two by two racing down the track. A bevy of children waited at the end of the track for the veggies to come flying off, and then chased them around the gym until they came to a stop, either on their own or often with a spectacular crash at the far wall. Ryan brought an unadorned giant daikon, which had rather impressive stability and shot straight to the back wall. Milo's lime-jello-filled red pepper had a respectable run, although without the explosive ending he was perhaps hoping for.

Then came Mr. Potato Head, poised at the top of the track, ready to wipe out the competition. Spectators and judges were told to stand back lest the vehicle were to hit a bump on the track and go flying. A massive pipe wrench with a mustachioed potato strapped to it flying through the air would be, in a word, disastrous. Mr. Potato Head and his puny competitor were released, and Mr PH flew down the track in two seconds flat, destroying all competition. It almost destroyed the video camera too when it smacked into the table where the camera was teetering on a tripod.

A clear winner. Faster than they all. An easy win. Perhaps too easy of a win - that must have been what the "officials" were thinking, because Mr PH was forced to race again, this time with a substandard set of axles and wheels that produced a little too much drag. Unbeknownst to Joe, myself or likely most of the crowd, this second race was used to determine the winner. This came to light at the award ceremony, where I was sure that we would be going home with the grand prize of a 10 pound sack of potatoes. Winners in other categories were named off - Green award, style award, best in show, others I can't recall - and then..... the Overall Winner is... some tiny little rutabaga perched atop a zucchini. The shock on my face was apparent, I'm sure. Joe was busy chatting, perhaps not even aware that his award had gone to someone else. Once he realized the competition was rigged, however, he picked up Mr PH and said "let's go". He'd seen enough. The ugly face of "the establishment" had shown itself. His creation wasn't good enough, or maybe it was too good. He made no direct accusations of fraud, rigging, buying votes, etc., but was convinced that his entry was blacklisted from the beginning. Mr. Potato Head never had a chance.

A quick stop at Dick's (where we unexpectedly ran into the Laytons, who had left the activity 30 seconds before we did - apparently their kids were too busy running after the veggies to be bothered with the baked potato bar at the derby) and all was forgiven, or at least forgotten.

Joe may be remembered at church as the guy who tried to race a wrench in a vegetable competition, but he will always be a winner in my book. aawwwwe