It’s OK, O Best Ones. I’m back. I know it’s been difficult, waiting for the conclusion of last week’s column. I know you’ve suffered.
I know you’ve been counting the days ... good thing you have two hands.
Whoa! And one special finger, I see.
Enough of that. You don’t want to get into a war of wits with The Cool Kid. I’m the Mongol Golden Horde of smackdown.
Never miss a local story.
Let’s be friends again, and together we can get to the end of this column before the biscuits are done.
As you recall, my iPad was acting out. I tried to reboot it -- thinking that would help. But it wouldn’t restart.
Bad, bad news. As Archimedes once so famously said: “Most of the books I read these days are ebooks.”
What to do? Only one thing, really. I waited for it to rain and went outside so no one could see my tears.
Then it occurred to me: my Kindle. Most of the books I had on my iPad would also be stored on my Kindle.
As Sammy Davis Jr. once so famously said: “Eureka!”
I hadn’t used my Kindle in a couple of years. But I dusted it off, figuratively speaking. Then I dusted it off literally. Mrs. Cool Kid didn’t look the least bit chagrined.
The battery was dead, natch. But I plugged it in and waited. And waited.
Waited and waited.
It was deader than them that anger Shaft.
It started raining again. I went outside again. I have my pride.
I tried to console myself. There’s always book books, I told myself. There’s always Gottwals.
So pondering a return to the troglodyte life, I went back inside.
And like someone looking in the same drawer again for the same missing keys, I tried one more time to boot up my iPad.
It came on.
I ran outside and danced in the pouring rain, flinging my tears of joy over all of God’s creation.
A story like this, O Best Ones, a story of near tragedy turned to triumph, this kind of story must have a moral.
And the moral of the story is this: I ain’t no band leader.