The northeast was struck by a tropical storm of Hindenbergial magnitude, and tragically, the battery farm was not exempt. The inclement weather adversely affected the dubiously-conceived yard sale, dissapointing all who brought their rug-art collections to sell.

Fortunately, we thrilled to the heroic arrival of Buddha, who'd travelled for 26 hours straight from Texas by plane, then automobile, and finally tow-truck, in a vain attempt to make the 6 am kick-off. Though he killed a deer in the process, and almost himself, he won the Waitsian Meritorious Acheivment Award for Baffling Stubborness Despite All Odds.

But more importantly, with Buddha still in one peice - at least, for the moment - a new potato canon could once again endanger the health and safety of all at the Battery Farm. And that's why we look to Buddha to keep the "huh?" in "humor."

A successful hurling by cannon calls for drinks, and the means to projectile hurl later. Thanks to Brooklyn Brewery for supplying the means to this end, Paulaner Octoberfest.

Often, when we lose the potatoes we feel close to, a family feels both a moment of sadness and regret at the absence of little fries, and joy at their airborn velocity.