Idle idyll on the asphalt
Two days ago I got a flat tire.
I was in a hurry, as usual, racing to meet a friend for dinner, and as I pulled out of my driveway I immediately heard the sickening “flub” and felt that pulling to the side that signaled the nasty news. Drat.
Off to the gas station, which was still open. But the tire wouldn’t fill with air. This was much worse than the usual flat–this tire was a goner. Finito.
No, of course they didn’t have one in stock that matched the others. And these days spare tires are those little doughnut thingees that don’t allow you to go over fifty-five miles per hour, and the next day, as luck would have it, I needed to do a lot of highway driving. So the doughnut fix would be a very temporary one.
Yesterday I resentfully resigned myself to spending time I didn’t think I could spare driving over to the discount tire place. I resentfully resigned myself to spending money I didn’t want to fork over purchasing the mate to the others.
Plus, the waiting room in a discount tire place was not exactly where I wanted to be. There were the usual plastic chairs and car magazines from 2003 (it was a very good year), along with the gumball machine and the water cooler. There was a woman chattering on her cellphone, laptop perched in a place one doesn’t usually see it–her lap–frantically doing business, multitasking away.
I went outside for a moment to get my own cell phone before returning to settle in for the wait. But before I reentered the room I stopped for a moment. And when I stopped, I realized something: even though I was in a strip mall gazing at acres of asphalt, a Lowe’s, a Radio Shack, and all the usual trimmings, it was a beautiful beautiful day.
And not just a beautiful day. It was a glorious day, a spectacular day. It wasn’t just the blue sky and the fluffy white clouds and the perfect seventy-two degree temperature. There was something in the air, some freshness and cleanness, some mix of ions and light and smells that made it seem like air from a different time and place, a better one. It struck me that I needed to stay outside and simply breathe in that air, and relax.
So that’s just what I did. And when my car was ready, it seemed as though the wait hadn’t been nearly long enough.
Lovely!
A great reminder.
Another perspective enlarger from Neo. Thank you.
You can’t be a leftist with a panglossian attitude like that. No wonder you crossed to the other side.
It sometimes happens like that, doesn’t it? When absolutely everything seems wrong and not a damn thing could go worse….some ‘something’ catches your eye and you look around and suddenly, gosh, it’s a beautiful day and what is that that had me in such a foul humor again? It doesn’t happen often enough, at least to me, but days like that make me smile long afterwards. Maybe eventually it will happen often enough to sort of make it a habit….to take a good look around and realize nothing at that moment is all that bad when compared to that view and breath of fresh air. Hope you got your tire fixed, happier still if that glorious feeling carried through the rest of the day and evening. Enjoy it when you get it! 🙂
panglossian
Have to admit you stumped me on that one! 🙂 Had to go look it up. So, are you saying that because neo is an ‘extreme’ optimist…that is why she could no longer be a liberal? Doesn’t that sort of justify the general view of liberals as ‘extreme’ pessimists? Sort of like shooting yourself in your own foot? 🙂
Fix a Flat.
It’s not a permanent solution, regardless of what anyone says (this is personal experience talking). And it doesn’t work well for lower profile tires (anything below a “60R”), nor does it work for gaping holes, and is lousy for tear-type tire injuries. But, that said, for most punctures on many tires, it works well enough to let you put off a trip to the tire store until it’s convenient.
And: Lucky you. Last flat I got, it was rainy, cold, and I had to pull over in a not-so-clean spot, so not only was I soaked, I ended up gettin’ pretty muddy to swap out that tire.
Guy at the tire store actually chuckled and asked if I just went swimming. Fair question, given that I was leaving a huge puddle on his floor.
Hey pete, how many bridesmaids were kidnapped from weddings so Saddam’s sons could rape them?
Anyway, back on topic, a lap is actually a lousy place for a laptop. I’m spending 6 hours a day in the passenger seat of an automobile using one. I have to sit funny so I can balance it on my knees in order to be able to minimize wrist flex, and, it being a Dell, the heat is starting to worry me.
Hey pete, how many bridesmaids were kidnapped from weddings so Saddam’s sons could rape them?
“Iraqi officials last night said an American helicopter fired on a wedding party in western Iraq killing more than 40 people, including many children, in another damaging setback for the US occupation.”
– Wedding party massacre
Hostess: you’d have a lot more time on you hands if you dealt with your envy in private rather than in a public diary.
um…the ‘wedding massacre’ happened, if it did, almost two and a half years ago. I know neo requested we not respond to trolls, but hey, if you are going to be a right regular pest, can’t you at least try to stay up to date?
You’d have loads more time on your hands if you 1) stayed on topic and 2) maintained a current time line and 3) found somewhere else to post where your nonsense might be taken as serious.
Neo, you have the patience of a saint. I am forever reaching for the ‘delete’ key….many times am very saddened to not have one.
Ginger, I don’t consider myself a troll.
Some of the regulars’ comments here are appalling by anybody’s standards yet their contributors are almost never taken to task. I can think of one occurrence, when Goesh was upbraided for stating that “might makes right.”
Appreciate that your conversations are taking place way out here — in public — and not behind doors in an echo chamber. You’re better off for it.
Yes, from the perspective on age, flat tires are only flat tires on the road of life. But the recent issue replacement temporary tires are proabably less effective than actual doughnuts, and a lot less tasty too.
Also, there needs to be ranting against the crappy tinkertoy jacks provided for removing tires. Neo, if you actually got use out of one of those go to MIT. Collect an MS in Mechanical Engineering. Do not pass GO. Do not collect $200.
What does Pete’s rant have to do with tires?
To prevent road wear insurrection, I rotate my tires often and randomly to keep them off balance and guessing. Tires that become troublesome are renditioned off to “secure” locations for proper conditioning. Im not above having their little beads broken if it gets the desired results.
I make no apologies for my methods for one simple reason; It freaking works.
Now, I suggest you do the same.
Some of the regulars’ comments here are appalling by anybody’s standards yet their contributors are almost never taken to task.
I haven’t been here regularly for some time, so I know anon isn’t refering to me. But he probably would if he knew, and I knew.
Goesh was absolutely correct that might makes right, in the same senes that heat burns flammable materials.
Some people are too self-righteous to understand the wisdom of the times. Reminds me of crabs in a bucket. “you’re much better with us in the bucket, so don’t try to climb out” mentality
Ginger, it would be a lot easier to ignore people if you didn’t have to scroll through a bunch of text with the name at the end, and unable to collapse comments like blogger had.
With Haloscan, not only can you NOT know the names of comments ahead of time, but you also can’t skip them automatically. You have to do so manually, which certain saboteurs know about and make much use of.
Sometimes brand new tires will go flat if they run over the wrong kind of road hazard. Some tires are made with defects too. There’s nothing that will keep you from a breakdown 100% of the time. Being prepared means many things, including having a flexible mind. Trolls don’t.
I haven’t been here regularly for some time, so I know anon isn’t refering to me.
No, I’ve read your stuff. You’re crazy.
And you wouldn’t know brevity if it bit you on the ass.