Real Men Change Tires

The counter is that is why motor club service was invented.

I had not had a flat in years. Only once before with my VW and that was actually my son a few days after getting his driver’s license.

I left work that night at 9 with a 45 minutes trip home. On the usual highway when I hear a noise and then a constant thudding. It sounded more like I had rolled over something that stuck to the car than it sounded like a flat. I probably waited too long to exit. No, I definitely waited too long.

I pulled off into the parking lot of a small fruit store that was right off the exit. It was closed for the night.

History has taught me that you never know how long it will take for the motor club to send someone. It was late. I was tired. I had done this before.

Lesson One. Keep a working flashlight in your car. The lights from the store were of only modest assistance. After emptying the trunk enough to get to the spare  I struggled to find the tool kit and the jack. 15-20 minutes at least. The lack of light hampered the process several times.

My wife and I are all over our teenage son when he rattles off a litany of obscenities at the slightest provocation. My son could have learned a thing or two about spewing obscenities if he had been with me that night.

Lesson Two. Periodically check to make sure the spare has enough air. I got lucky, mine did. I have not checked in years.

I figure that the tire should have been changed in no more than 30 minutes. The whole thing took well over an hour. The lack of light and search time for tools contributed. So did the fact that VW includes one of the worst jacks possible.

I am accustomed to having the longest, widest part of the jack be on the ground. Such a design leads to stability as a couple of thousand pounds is lifted off of the ground. When after several minutes this clearly was not working, I checked the owner’s manual. Stupid me, I should have realized that the 2 sq. inch piece of metal at one end of the jack  would be what will ground the force of the two thousand pound car from slipping and crushing me. Of course.

The icing on the cake. I had the car up on the jack, the old tire off, the spare on the frame but could not get the lug nuts to screw in. I tried six times. By then I was sure that I was missing some crucial piece. Fortunately my brother had spent most of his adult working like as an auto mechanic. I called.

What he told me to do was exactly what I had been doing. Yet with him om the phone it worked. All I can figure is that his mechanic aura had come through the cell phone towers to my phone and made magic happen. Yes at 10:30 at night after a long work day and more than an hour struggling with the damn tire, it as MAGIC!

Admittedly at the end of it all  I felt a sense of satisfaction for taking care of something myself. I would not have felt this way if I had called the motor club. But I might have gotten home sooner.

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About 48facets
What you read is what you get.

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