A young fellow wanted to be a star journalist but lived in a small town (not much possibility). One day the dam upstream broke and the town was flooded. He got in a rowboat and headed out to look for a story. Found a lady sitting on her rooftop. He tied up the boat and told her what he was after. (They both watched as various items floated by).

She says, “Now there’s a story.” “No, that’s not a story.” Finally a hat floats by and then does a 180 degree turn, goes upstream a ways and does another 180 degree turn, etc.

The fellow says, “There’s a story.”

“Oh no, that’s not a story. “That’s my husband Hayford. He said that he was going to mow the lawn come hell or high water!”

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