For years, Princess Anne of Ingerlund, the one who rode animals to whom she bore a striking resemblance, kept a pied a terre right here in Norfolk. I used to think that pied a terre was French for potato, which naturally raised the question, Why would Princess Anne bother to keep a potato in Norfolk, Virginia? Speculation on which would have made a more interesting blog entry, but once you've opened the Pandora's Box of correct translations, there's no closing it. So, Princess Anne kept a kind of No-Tell Motel here in Norfolk, where she would entertain that Snowdon guy, as well as several members of the Norfolk State football team, it's rumored. Rumored by me, as it happens, which is a nice efficient way to handle such things. Cutting out the middleman and all that. Maybe the potato bore a striking resemblance to her brother, that might be a possible explanation, and knowing that certain courtiers were plotting to steal the potato and pluck out its eyes in some kind of meaningless symbolic gesture, she spirited it to Norfolk for safe-keeping. On the Queen Elizabeth. That would be fun. Because when she googled Norfolk, she forgot to type in "England", and being a princess, meaning she was a few crown jewels short of a diamond-studded tiara, she didn't find it curious that the trip involved five days on an ocean liner. Long story short, while here she took the potato and, in a fit of pique, which is French for being really pissed off, she chopped the potato up and had fish and chips for dinner, although what the English call "chips" bear no resemblance, striking or otherwise, to real potato chips. The English can't seem to get anything right, can they? Regrettably, this is an epithet that has been more applicable to Americans in recent years, but that's going to change on November 4th.