“And this morning at breakfast,
I spilled all the coffee
And opened the door on my knee.
But the last thing I needed,
The first thing this morning,
Was to have you walk out on me.”

Those are some lyrics written by songwriter/entertainer Gary P. Nunn that sums up the kind of day that, if it were a fish, you’d throw it back in and if it were a horse you’d shoot it.

Note the photograph above. This is about a mile from where I live. Because of all the rain we’ve had—soaking, squishy, unrelenting wet—the ground was so wet that she could no longer hold up Mister Substantial Tree.

I call these orchid trees and this might or might not be one. Whatever it is, it won’t be what it was for much longer. I think once a tree tumps over, it’s no longer a tree. In this case, it is the largest accessory on what appeared to be, at one time, a nice red Chevrolet pickup truck.

“Yeah, I want the tinted windows, and throw in the Deluxe Tree Package,” said a truck buyer, never.

Had a tough Friday? Things didn’t seem to be going your way? Me either. I squished around in the back yard. Had trouble thinking in my head. Was worried about my wife’s doctor’s appointment (turned out OK), and it cost me $38 to fill up.

But I was playing for second behind this guy whose truck was assaulted by lumber. Don’t tell him about your terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. Not only did the tree fall, but it feel right in front of his carport, in front of the door, and on his innocent truck.

Silver lining: I hope he wasn’t in it.

-30-

Y’all should be proud of me because I finally got around to hopping into the 21st Century. I’ve been laughed at quite a bit for my Flintstone iPhone but frankly, it became a badge of honor for me.

But no more. I broke down and got a new iPhone 8. But it wasn’t easy; not because of the cost (though they don’t give them away), but I had developed quite an attachment to my 4S.

That’s right — I “doubled” my phone generations in one online purchase.

The last time I bought a cell phone, the New Orleans Saints had just won the Super Bowl and the Winter Olympics were going on in Vancouver. The Tea Party was gathering momentum — please no jokes about it being the original Tea Party — and Derek Jeter was a shortstop, not an owner. It was 2010. Yeah, I said it.

People would ask why don’t I get a newer model and in an absolute concession to my advanced age, I would respond by saying the famed geezer line of “Why would I get a new one if the one I have isn’t broken?”

Which it wasn’t, by the way. Many times when the ridicule began to get irritating, I’d whip out my phone and ask them to look at the cracks on the face.

“I don’t see any cracks,” they would say.

“My point exactly.”

I couldn’t even buy a case for it anymore. The chargers were almost obsolete. But my iPhone was like Cal Ripken — showed up everyday and gave maximum effort.

But just like Ripken, age began to take its toll. Battery life became a joke. And forget about trying to watch a video. Stall City.

So I threw up the metaphorical white flag. I pushed six buttons on a website and three days later, I had a new BFF.  To be honest, it feels kinda nice to have finally closed the gap with the rest of the world (relatively speaking). After eight years, I figured the ghost of Steve Jobs would get me back and the new one would last 8 days. But all is good.

However, I’m still keeping the Flintstone iPhone. Just in case.