Doodoodoodoo, Doodoodoodoo

Hopefully the title comes across the way that I intend--you know, the theme song to The Twilight Zone and not just a bunch of doodoos.  I think with the economy the way it is, we all have experienced plenty of doodoos...or dodos...or both....

In case you're not old enough to remember, The Twilight Zone was an old TV show that featured eerie plot twists.  It had nothing to do with Team Egbert or bloodsucking teenagers or whatever.  When I was little, this show freaked me out.  It's sort of hard to describe, so here's an example clip:



Well, I experienced a bit of my own version of The Twilight Zone today.  At least I choose to look at it that way because the alternative would mean I'm losing my mind.   While I agree the latter is much more likely, I choose to believe the unexplainable.  I choose to believe that I was temporarily sucked into another dimension....

...because that sounds totally plausible.

It all started when I went to town early this morning and picked up my dad from his house. On our way back to the farm I stopped in at the local Co-op to have a tire fixed on my bale mover (a small trailer with a winch that is used to move one large roundbale of hay at a time).  While I waited for the tire to be fixed, I called the farmer that I had been getting grass hay from and asked him if I could buy five more roundbales today, which will basically set me up with enough grass hay for the remainder of the winter.  He said sure, I could do that, and before I could ask him when I could drop by his house to pay him my phone died.

My phone dying, in and of itself, is not at all unusual. My doodoodoodoo of a supposed "smart" phone, more times than not, has a hissy fit and crashes on me if I make a call lasting longer than two minutes.  For some reason a full battery becomes completely spent in a span of a nanosecond and it won't come back alive without some serious charging. Of course I had left the charger in the car (and I was now driving my truck), so I had to live with the fact that I had inadvertently hung up on the sweet old farmer I buy grass hay from and hope that when I went by his house he would be (1) home and (2) understanding about the dropped call.

Once the tire was fixed Dad and I hopped back into the truck and drove over to the farm where I got my phone charger out of my car, then we headed on over to the farmer's house.  I pulled into his driveway, got out and walked up to his door while Dad waited in the truck.  When the farmer opened the door I immediately began apologizing for the dropped call.  He had a very puzzled look on his face, though, so I stopped.  He then said something I didn't expect.  He said, "You didn't call me."

I asked him to repeat what he said and he said the same thing.  The words didn't change.  I thought to myself, oh, he's just confused.  After all, he's quite old and has been a farmer his whole life and exposed to a lot of fertilizer--I just caught him on an off day and he'll remember if I help him out a bit.  I replied, "Yes, I called you about an hour ago, remember?"

He insisted I didn't.  He then asked if I spoke to his son and I said, "No, I thought I spoke to you.  I asked if it was you and they said it was, then we talked about the hay."

He insisted I didn't talk to him and it really wasn't important enough to pursue any further--I thought in my head he must just be having an off day and it's no big deal, so I explained why I was there and he agreed to sell me 5 more bales.  I handed him the money, thanked him, and we chatted a bit before I left and he went inside his house.

I told Dad about my conversation with the farmer on our way to the field to pick up the first roundbale of hay.  He laughed and agreed--he's probably just forgetful and having an off-day.  By that time my phone had charged enough for me to turn it on. I turned on my phone and looked at my call list and immediately dropped my phone.....

My phone showed that I had not called the farmer that morning.

doodoodoodoo, doodoodoodoo

Imagine, if you will, a blonde with an uncooperative phone, just wanting to purchase some hay.  Little did she know, that in western Stafford County, she would enter...

The Twilight Zone.