Opinion : Biting my nails and over nails, screws and other debris

Just about a month ago, give or take, I had some work done on my '99 Lexus. She's coming up on 130,000 miles so I figure if I don't hit a deer, it should last me another 4 or 5 years. It's my way of recycling, running cars until they die of natural causes.

After the work was done, I took the car out on the highway and drove through town on some of the roads that made it bottom out before and it sailed over the bumps and I smiled.

We were back. I then thought about other random things that needed to be replaced on the old girl. Overall, we were doing pretty good. Nothing major really.

Then it was Sunday. I thought on my day off I'd take a load of recycling into town. As I went out to the car lugging my recycling, I saw that I had a flat tire. Now, I knew that I couldn't lift a tire, so I called the one guy that I knew I could count on. "Hey, kiddo,what are you doing? Can you come out and change a tire for me?" "Sure!" He responded.

It was a 90-degree day with nasty humidity. I had already cleared the trunk so that the tire and jack could be available, and hauled most of the stuff to the house which included I think 5 coats from this winter, the hats, gloves and scarves that went along with them and rearranged the other necessities that go with this job. Spare shoes, for when I have to walk through mud and then I need to go to a meeting but I don't have time to run home. My "go bag," which is another story, and reminds me that I need to repack it. I also have all kinds of miscellaneous things in the car that I got tired of buying because I brought them into the house. Mostly electronic gadgets. There were also 3 ice scrapers, one long one that doesn't scrape but brushes good, and a short one that scrapes good, but doesn't have a brush. And a small square one that I threw in the pocket of the car along with the random change.

After standing on the tire iron to loosen the lug nuts, and mom cringing hoping the flip flops wouldn't slide off causing a need for stitches, the tire was finally off, and the FULL sized spare was in place. Can we talk about donuts? I hate the things. There is nothing like being in the middle of nowhere with a donut with instructions to "Only drive at 50 mph. and don't drive further than 60 miles," it will say. But anyway, just a pet peeve of mine.

With the spare in place, and the flat in the trunk, he made the mistake of saying, "Is there anything else you need done?" I asked him to lug another really heavy container to the house for me, so he did that.

I thanked him, then we chatted about what else needed to be done around the house. We discussed a sidewalk and steps that a squirrel has been slowly eating. I think the rodent is also part beaver.

On Monday morning, I swing into John's Tire and have the tire repaired. The spare tire is then tucked back into my trunk and I ask the guys if they think I have enough tread to get me to wintertime since it's been a couple of years for these tires. They assure me that it looks like there's enough to get me to fall, so I'm off on my four properly aired tires.

Until Monday night.

I needed to drive about half an hour to cover a story and as soon as I walked out the door I saw that I had yet another tire going low. I stopped in town and filled up the tire and called my son again. "Hey? Can you change a different tire for me? And can I borrow your car?"

I trade cars, and cover the story. I return to find that this time it wasn't going to be an easy switch. One of the lug nuts refused to leave the car willingly.

Unfortunately, I saw his neighbor, that I knew. I knew that the guy had the common sense that we'd need to get the lug nut off. Sure enough. He kindly brought over the proper equipment and removed the now deformed lug nut. Thanking him profusely the flat was once again put in the trunk and the spare on the car.

Returning on Tuesday morning, I pull into John's Tire Service.

"I brought you another tire!" I said as I dropped the keys in my pocket.

This time the tire had 3 nails and screws in it.

Now honestly, I really don't drive it down the aisles of Home Depot. One theory is that with the rain and the maintainer that the roads have been dug up enough that all the metal can now lodge in my tires.

In a few hours, I will run out of the house and hope that I don't see another flat tire. I don't think the kid will answer if I call again.

Will my day start with a trip to John's again? I hope not. Not that I don't chuckle over the humor on the walls while I wait for my tires to be repaired. Not that the service isn't awesome. I just miss hopping in the car and it running like a top. I don't miss biting my actual nails and hoping I make it to the gas station where there's an air pump.

The car is scheduled for another trip to the mechanic in a week. It will be past its oil change time, and the trunk button doesn't work. So I suppose there's a fuse located under the back seat that the mechanic will have to remove to replace. Don't laugh. The car is weird I've heard.

Until then, I'll just continue to pick up the nails, and screws and any other metal on the road, just doing my public service duty. And I'll keep supporting the local businesses.

But if you see a baby blue Lexus with a flat tire, she's mine.