How I dropped my phone into the depths of Lake Martin is still a great and confusing mystery which evidently involves beer.

My wife and I were at the lake for the week. We were getting ready to go kayaking. It was sunny. I wore an oversized life vest designed for someone roughly the size of Herman Munster. I wore SpongeBob swim trunks.

I had a thick layer of zinc on my nose because I am a redhead and will turn into a vine-ripened tomato after four minutes of UV exposure.

TRUE FACT: George Washington was a redhead, so was Thomas Jefferson. Also, Judas Iscariot.

So anyway, my wife and I deposited our two rental kayaks into the water. Which isn’t easy. Kayaks are heavy, especially with coolers strapped to the hull.

The correct way to launch a kayak requires a lot of attention. You must hold your kayak securely or else the current will suck your vessel out to sea and you run the very real risk of running out of beer.

No sooner had we placed kayaks into the water that they began drifting away. “Help!” shouted my wife. “Don’t let it get away!”

I am male. When a woman cries for help, I must respond. This is basic male instinct. Just like the instinct to protect, to provide, and the instinct to discuss the importance of relief pitching.

So, drawing on my training as an English major, I dove into the lake. I didn’t realize, of course, that my iPhone was in my pocket. At least not until I saw my phone sinking to the bottom. I saw my glowing home screen, falling gently away from me, downward into the depths.

Thankfully, I was able to retrieve the phone from the lake floor, but by then it was too late, my phone was deader than soft rock.

And since our rental cabin is hundreds of miles from the nearest phone repair shop, I am—as the French say—totally freaking screwed.

I am without a phone for the duration of our holiday. Thus, if you’ve been trying to text, email, or private message me, now you know why I haven’t responded.

The first 24 hours without my phone are definitely the worst. I have had no way to text, no GPS, no way to watch important Facebook videos while showering.

And things got even worse when I realized that I had no way check my bank account, listen to music, to search Google, take pictures, and no way to scroll TikTok while sitting on the toilet until my legs have gone completely numb.

To tell you the truth I’m ashamed. I had no idea how important the smartphone had become to me over the last decade.

I grew up at the tail end of the technology-less era. I didn’t own a smartphone until my thirties. But sadly, I use the phone for everything now. From setting alarms, to purchasing SpongeBob swim trunks on Amazon.

So this redhead doesn’t know what he’s going to do. Without a phone, I feel practically naked and disconnected. I feel alienated from society. But most of all, I feel very strongly that I will have another beer.