Since I have been the bearer of one catastrophe after another I decided not to tell of the latest one since I didn't want you all to think I have a curse on me; even though I have wondered myself if such a curse has befallen me. I just keep on "grinin" not gonna let the dark side get me down; I'm going to live in the light, trust that God hasn't forgotten little ol me, and just " keep on keepin on".
So I think it's a good thing that I decided not to tell about the other day when I had suffered a television overdose due to the Royal Wedding marathon, which I couldn't take my eyes off of. I figured it was time to get out and take a drive to the river, park in my favorite spot, enjoy the rush of the mighty river, the yellow-rumped warblers, and spy on the nesting herons I found in a lone pine tree. I gathered up my crossword puzzles, some books, binoculars and camera. All ready to go, I stepped out of the trailer and looked down and saw that my trucks left rear tire was nearly flat; almost to the rim. Looking up into the sky I said a quick prayer of exorcism in case a meteor was headed my way.
Realizing it was 12 miles to the nearest gas station my nervous mind was swimming with all the potential scenarios I was about to experience. I gathered my wits and tried to determine a sane course of action... then I remembered the very rough and hard-livin, Harley dude mechanic across the street...his dirty mess of a shop likely has an air compressor buried in there somewhere. So driving gingerly out of the RV park with the tire inches from the rim I go the 400 yds to his place and pull in. Luckily he was standing around doing nothing, cigarette hanging from his mouth so he filled it. I asked if he figured I could make it the twelve miles to town to get it fixed, he gives me that disdainful look that hot young Harley dudes reserve for old, gone-to-seed women and says, "I just loaned out my crystal ball and they haven't brought it back yet." Smart Ass... where's that meteor when ya need it.
So, onto the freeway I go headed to the big city where the tire stores are. Once on the freeway I operate my mirror down so I can see the tire....it seems to be holding...my heart is in my throat, Iv'e got 11 miles to go. If it quickly goes down I am stranded on the freeway with a spare tire under the trucks belly that is far too heavy and has a wing nut release that hasn't seen the light of days for years, no way am I going to be able to undo it. The last time I had a flat I was thirty years old and in the best shape of my life...a truck load of gorgeous young forest rangers came around the curve....they had that tire fixed in seconds. Now, I would have to count on someone stopping that figures I am near death and may even look like their mother.
But, alas, it holds. Big O Tires is right at the first exit. While it's in gettng the NAIL!!!! out of it the other fella tries to sell me $1200 worth of tires....I act stupid, so he, in hopes of making a sale, tells me there is no charge for todays fix....I go on my merry way knowing that I will buy tires at Costco.
I keep my head up knowing that with the kind of exploring I take that truck on it's bound to gather up a nail or two...after all, it has been 28 years since the last flat.
But you can see why I decided not to tell you of this latest event. Don't want you to think I am a hard-luck story. When the next one occurs, maybe I will share that one with you instead.