Remember a time when people would be hired to sort out fruits and vegetables? They would take the bruised and damaged ones and throw them away. Now they put them in a special box and call it organic.

I bough some organic potatoes from an organ grinder. He claimed his monkey died and he had to make a living some other way. That's why he opened up a small farm stand. He refused to sell bananas. He said they brought back too many memories.

Now I can't tell for certain that he was in fact an organ grinder or if he ever went into business with a monkey, but the potatoes he sold were organic and they sure tasted good.