Uncle!

When we were kids we'd wrestle each other till one or the other shouted "Uncle."  That was the end of the match.  He who shouted was the loser.  Fourteen years ago the most I could have done was whisper "uncle."  I was a three pack-a-day smoker at that time and a whisper, followed by a rest to catch my breath, was the most I could manage.  All that has changed now, thanks to the fact I quit smoking.  My lungs survived years of abuse and now are in pretty good shape.  Wish I could say the same about my belly.  Soon after quitting I started to look a lot like Buddha, and today, since I'm also mostly bald, we could easily be mistaken for twins.  I think he smiles a little more. 

This morning I thought I'd drive the Guzzler rather than the Guzzler Deluxe.  It's been parked in the garage for the last several days and I hate to let a piece of machinery just sit for much more than that.  Machines have a nasty habit of getting rusty if they are not used regularly and I don't want that to happen to ours.  I opened the garage door for the first time since I parked the beast and the first thing I saw was a flat tire!  How did that happen?  A closer inspection revealed a nail in the tread. 

I just happen to have a genuine certified "very cool" air compressor in the corner of the garage so I was not overly concerned.  I'd just crank it up, put enough air in the tire to get me to the Les Schwab place and have it repaired.  The first step in that process was moving the compressor close enough to an electrical outlet to plug it in.  Well, remember we just moved and my garage is a mess? 

I started moving boxes. And moving stuff that had been pulled out of a box while looking for something else that was supposed to be in that box but wasn't.  Oh yeah, I also started moving old dog beds - my wife collects them.  We get new ones all the time because she thinks it will be more comfortable for the dog but we just can't seem to part with the old one.  Can someone help me out with these things?  Please?

Finally I got to the point I could roll the compressor to the general vicinity of a wall socket and plug it in.  Now, just which box contained the air hose and fittings?  That took another half hour of looking in boxes.  Thank Goodness the hose is bright yellow.  I spied it beneath six garden hoses that were jammed into a very large crate.  So, out came the garden hoses so I could get to the air hose.  Now I was able to trip over half a mile of coils of green garden hoses while looking for the fittings.  That state of affairs will probably remain until my leg is in a cast.  Maybe I'll remedy it sooner.  Maybe I'll also win the lottery.  Forty-five minutes later I had everything in hand and filled the tire with air.  Thinking all was well; I hopped in and headed for the tire place.

The guys there were great.  The tire was off and on some sort of machine as I walked into the showroom to have a free cup of coffee.  Free coffee is quite common around here.  It's part of the Pacific Northwest Experience.  Ten minutes later a Very Serious looking guy came over to me with some kind of gizmo in his hand that I had never in my life seen before.  I learned this weird looking part was a modern version of a valve stem.  Ya know, those thingies where the air goes into the tire that have been used for years and years?  All of us had them on our very first bicycles and on every other tire that has passed through our lives for the last 60 years or so and any one of them could readily be exchanged for any other one.  Well, the new ones have some kind of sensor attached to them so a light comes on your dash to tell you you have a flat tire. 

Duh.  Can't ya just look anymore?  I guess not.  The Very Serious guy told me mine was corroded and the valve stem would not come apart.  I needed a new one. 

Now, I remember when things like valve stems cost ten cents.  That was before people got too dumb to be able to tell a tire is flat by looking at it.  The new version that is smart enough to let you know the tire is flat costs sixty bucks!  Not only does Chrysler management think we're too dumb to look at a flat tire and say  "Gee - the tire's flat,"  they also think we're dumb enough to pay sixty bucks for a ten cent part.  I guess they're right.  I paid it and was on my way home.

When I pulled into the drive I started thinking about my morning.  I am so very glad I quit smoking in plenty of time for my lungs to recover.   UNCLE!!!!!