Well, that line from the song, “April Showers,” is a crock—it is “raining rain, you know.” Cold rain. Wet rain. Wisconsin rain.

Many friends in other parts of the country asked me about the “wet spell” we had here in Southeast Wisconsin. I tell them if that was a “wet spell” then the Dust Bowl was a “dry spell.”

I’m not saying we got a lot of rain, but there’s a movement afoot to change the State Animal from the Badger to the Otter. (Rimshot)

• There are almost as many houses underwater as their mortgages are.

• We don’t drive anymore, we hydroplane.

• I’ve renamed my kids, “Flotsam,” and “Jetsam.”

• The weather report terms vary from “Partly Soggy,” to “Continued Clammy,” to “Scattered Torrents,” to “Heavy Drizzle, For Shizzle.”

As with most things in life, there are positives to offset the negatives (you’ll have to sort out which is which) that have put a damper on Wisconsin’s “Rainfest.” (Here if we get more than three people together, we call it a “Something Fest,” and charge admission).

• But truth be told, some of the reports have been greatly exaggerated—there are actually scattered parts of my basement that haven’t been under water for days. And though the vast majority of it has succumbed, my breath is taken away by the charm of the lilly pads.

• And I’ve tried to look at the bright side. For instance, I found that my recliner can double as a flotation device. And I can serve as a flotation device for my cats. Win, win.

• Possibly a selling point for my house—every room is now a mud room.

• Oh, good! A flock of always welcome Canadian Geese just selected my driveway for a splashdown and the opportunity to use my back yard as a restroom…without even buying anything.

• Living under a cloud, as it were, for weeks on end taught me the difference between Monsoon and Typhoon, and that neither can measure up to a Wisconsoon.

The other seasons do make up for all this though. There’s nothing more heart warming than a Midwestern Blizzard, and I think our Summer is the best week you’ll find anywhere.

• Under the blessings in disguise department, I learned the benefits of what was once just a turnoff (and a deal breaker) in my trysts with the ladies. Who knew there would be an upside to having webbed feet?

• And I should be grateful; there’s none of that stinky sweat that hot weather used to produce copiously under my arms. Now there’s just mold.

Rain has tremendous power—not much else can cancel a baseball game. And even my nephew’s seemingly never-ending stream of soccer games have been canceled. So I don’t get to watch them play with kids I don’t know in a game nobody knows. What? Oh, sure, sure, the cancellation is “a damn shame.”

Who doesn’t love the patter of rain on the roof? Just those of us who are trying to get some damn sleep. And those who stare in growing horror at the drops forming on the guest room ceiling. However, the good news is they can actually fall asleep counting the money it’s going to take to fix the roof.

So, I turn up the heat to get rid of the dampness in my joints. Well the good news is it looks like some prize winning orchids may be growing in the fertile soil on my shower curtains.

I’ll have to end this for now. It’s hard to type with my fingers all pruney. And the screen is getting harder to read through my snorkel mask.

Of course, there is that old saying (mine), “If you can’t stand the damp, it’s time to break camp.” So stay tuned; I still might bolt, and leave town for sunnier climes.

Like Seattle.