When the Pandemic Gives You Potatoes, Set up a Chip Truck

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I was talking to my friend Doug Backus, a farmer in Lincoln, Ontario, about some kind of joint venture to take us and our families through our dotage.
Right now, Doug grows peaches, pears and grapes on his farm which has been in the family for two centuries. His farm is pretty big by Niagara standards but it's getting harder and harder to make a living to support his extended family which includes his parents Dorothy and Bill, his wife Theresa, assorted kids who live on the spread in various lodgings, and a slew of granddaughters whom he's raising.
Last summer, I was trying to convince Doug to start an artist colony where poor folks like me could live and do our arts and crafts, while trying to eek out a living on an Old Age Pension which amounts to a car payment for some of my rich friends. My thinking was we could put ourselves up in trailers, help out on the farm if we are able, and sell our wares to an unsuspecting public.
Doug is up for a lot of things but he couldn't see the point of my pitch which, if I'm to be perfectly honest, was based on my own self-interest and not a very flushed out business plan.
This week, I got a better idea, a big picture idea that I know we can rock out on.
I heard recently that farmers have been unable to sell their potatoes because people aren't going to restaurants anymore and the produce is basically rotting instead of being turned into delicious fries.
People are understandably reluctant to get out of their houses, and seek entertainment and food.
So how do we get rid of the potatoes?
I mean, you can only eat so many of those damned McCain fries that taste more like sawdust than crispy snacks.
About the same time, I saw a video of Keith Urban who was performing a set at a Drive-in Movie Theatre in Nashville in support of health care workers.
I loved the drive-in theatres as a little kid, teenager and single mom. The snacks were cheap, the movies were cheesy, and it was a chance to do an inside-out experience. Little kids could run around. Teenagers could practise their makeout techniques and moms could have a place to take their kids out of the house on the cheap.
Why not combine the potato glut with a place where people could go and watch concerts, or zombie movies?
All an entrepreneur needs is a big screen, a few speakers and a chip truck -- oh and lots of space!
Doug has the space, my former cameraman husband has the audio-visual expertise, and I think Doug's kids are actually contractors and electricians. We could serve some delicious Ontario wine from across the road as well.
Oh, and we would be performing a public service by cooking up all those spuds which I'm sure we could get for ten cents on the dollar!
Doug Ford might give us a grant or something!
Plus with all those damned kids on Doug's farm, we have a built in workforce.
I can cook well enough to make fries, burgers and dogs, so there's a job for me.
And the audience will be built in!
Everybody wants to get out and do so responsibly, and it's clear this damned virus will be around until Doug's kids are burying all of us in the back forty.
What could possibly go wrong?

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