One Potato, Two Potato
A tractor-trailer transporting potatoes rolled to a stop on the scales of the interstate weigh station. A state trooper approached the driver’s window to deliver the bad news: the vehicle was overweight. The trooper advised the young semi driver that he would need to off-load some of his spuds before he could proceed. The perplexed driver eased his rig off the scales and parked on the perimeter of the weigh station.
A little while later, the trooper glanced out the weigh station window and exclaimed, “What in the world is he doing?” The clearly inexperienced truck driver was standing in the back of the truck, methodically hand-picking potatoes from his load and tossing them into the grass beyond the pavement. One potato, two potato . . .
Ever since a friend recounted this event to me, which he witnessed on a ride-along with a state trooper years ago, the image of this potato-hurling driver has loomed large in my imagination. Whenever I pass a weigh station on the interstate, the word “potato” sprouts in my mind.
Why does this image fascinate me? When I first heard the story, I was incredulous: Why in the world did this guy think he could solve the problem of his overweight load by nibbling away at the edges? As I have continued to ponder the story, though, I have come to the conclusion that I have more in common with the driver than I might like to admit.
When faced with a situation that I don’t fully understand, how many times have I failed to ask clarifying questions? I don’t like to admit when I am confused, because I feel embarrassed by my ignorance. I don’t like to ask for help if I think I can figure out a way to solve a problem on my own. A simple conundrum can easily escalate to a crisis because of my pride.
If the driver had admitted to the trooper that he did not know what to do because this was his first time to have an overweight load, I’m guessing the trooper would have advised him to call his trucking company for further instructions. Another tractor-trailer would have subsequently been dispatched, the load would have been dispersed, and the potatoes would have proceeded to their destination.
Have you carried a heavy burden for longer than necessary because you were embarrassed to ask for help? Have you attempted (and failed) to relieve the pressure of a persistent problem by figuratively tossing one potato at a time rather than off-loading the bulk of the burden at once?
When I drove past the weigh station on I-40 this morning as I drove downtown, once again the word “potato” served as a prompt. What do I need to off-load today? Who can I ask to help me?
Invitation to wonder: When have you found relief by asking for help? What burden are you carrying today that needs to be off-loaded (with help)?
