I guess it's just one of those things that happens to everyone now and then. Yesterday, I hopped in the car with the idea of taking a dirty blanket to the cleaner's -- about five blocks away. The car made strange noises, and kept pulling to the left.
On the highway, I would have immediately diagnosed a flat tire. But the tire hadn't been flat the night before, and I was puzzled. After getting my blanket checked in, I took a look at the car. The right front tire was so flat that I'd been driving on the rim. I slowly drove back to my house, parked in the driveway, and resolved to think about it the next day.
Yes, rather than immediately tackle the problem, I procrastinated. And having no car, I walked 45 minutes to reach breakfast this morning.
If it's not one thing, these days, it's another. Right?
Although I've had my little Toyota Corolla for twenty years, I'd never had to change a flat tire. I knew there was a jack and a lug wrench in the trunk. And under the flimsy floor of the trunk, I discovered the spare tire, sitting in about three inches of water. Don't ask.
I rolled up my sleeves, metaphorically, and loosened the lug nuts. Before jacking the wheel off the ground, I suspected it would be a good idea to first remove the spare from the trunk. The tire, as is typical, was secured on a center pole, and pinned down in place by a wing nut. I twisted the wing nut Ol' Brer Nut, he don't move, he don't say nuthin'. I tried pounding the wings with various blunt instruments. No luck.
I had no tool that would move the immobile wing nut. I reviewed the twenty steps of "How to Change a Flat Tire"1, an excellent and exhaustive on-line, step by step manual tackling the title question. None of the steps addresses the critical issue of how to remove the spare tire from the trunk when the wing nut is stuck in place.
I had seemingly reached an impasse.
At the back of my mind were tragic memories of the day, as a 16-year-old, that I received my drivers license. To celebrate, I took my younger brother for a spin through the countryside surrounding our home town. In our dad's Buick. I quickly, of course, blew out a tire. While my brother watched with narrowed eyes, I breathed deeply and tried to be calm and competent. I removed the jack, placed it under the body of the car near the affected wheel, and jacked 'er up. The jack indeed rose, but the wheel remained, fixed solidly to the ground. I noticed that I had placed the jack under the soft metal of the fender, which was folding up like an accordion.
But wait, there's more. While I was removing the spare from the trunk, I had laid the car keys inside the trunk for safe keeping. After the jack fiasco, I slammed the trunk in frustration.
The tire was flat, the keys were in the trunk. In those days, there was no clever little lever under the seat for opening the trunk. It was quite a walk to the nearest pay phone to summon parental assistance. It was not a comfortable conversation. My brother listened, hanging on every word. There were no spare keys. The car had to be towed to a dealer, awaiting for several days arrival of the appropriate key.
My brother's thirteenth birthday arrived a day or two after the flat tire fiasco. Unfortunately, our folks had -- for reasons I don't recall -- placed most of his presents in the trunk for safe-keeping. They weren't available after his birthday dinner, when the cake and ice cream were served.
He gazed at me again, with hooded eyes.
That emotional trauma has always left me uncomfortable contemplating the possibility of flat tires and their consequences. As I was today.
But tell us, you plead -- how did you get the spare tire out of the trunk?
I telephoned a professional, of course. For a mere $169, he was on the scene within an hour, and within minutes had the tire changed, a feat that I suspect most drivers could accomplish themselves with their eyes closed. By that time -- to me, at least -- it was worth the cost.
Luckily my brother wasn't there to watch.
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1https://www.bridgestonetire.com/learn/maintenance/how-to-change-a-flat-tire/
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