Birthday Blowout

Today, my wife's birthday, we set out to spend a modest but romantic afternoon hiking in the foothills of the Sandia Mountains. Instead, as decided by our car, we sat in the parking lot of Target for about an hour, got a tow to Pep Boys, and ate lunch at a place called Taco Cabana.* All told, our trip spanned 3 miles, took 4 hours, cost $88, and put the dog and the birthday girl in a very bad mood.

Before you ridicule me and my family for not being able to do a simple tire change, I should tell you that it all started out as a mild setback. Upon hearing the tire go flat we calmly discussed what to do. Since we were on the freeway, we drove a short distance to the Target so that we would have room and safety to change it. We remained hopeful that our day was not ruined, merely postponed. We took the necessary precautions and gathered the necessary equipment as expertly as any pit crew. Onlookers were surely impressed with our deftness and enthusiasm as we got to work. It was here that our troubles really began.

It has been a while since I've had new tires, or had the tires rotated, so I can't remember who tightened the lug nuts, but whoever it was, they were fairly confident that we would never need to remove the tire again.

For those of you who have never seen me or my wife, I want to assure you that we are abnormally strong and muscular. My wife can lift an entire sectional sofa by herself, and I am really only comfortable in vests, so great is the circumference of my arms. And still, one can of Liquid Wrench** later we were not having any luck. We tried the normal Order of Operations--pulling really hard, jumping up and down on the wrench, looking at it and thinking--but nothing seemed to work. Eventually, desperate, we called The David.

The David looks harmless enough. He is thin, and wears glasses, and drives a sensible commuter car. However, The David is a Black Belt, and when he arrived with a mallet and a socket set, I knew our detour was almost over.

Surprisingly, hitting a socket wrench with a mallet won't actually loosen the nuts. It does, however, cause the wrench to ratchet in the opposite direction after the blow lands, in a very amusing way. One more time just to be sure... Ok, that doesn't work.

Next, The David brought out his own personal lug wrench. I watched with awe as I studied his superior technique. Rather than leaping into the air and stomping on the wrench, The David carefully balanced, one-footed, atop the handle of the wrench, and began to coax it earthward by kicking his free leg backwards with all the grace of a tightrope walker, power and beauty in equal parts. I admired his knowledge of leverage, and I really feel this would have worked had the wrench not suddenly split in half.

Back at square one (less one lug wrench) we discussed our options. The David suggested that we call a tow truck. I wanted to keep pulling until the stubborn hardware gave up. My wife hoped we could scrape the VINs off and torch the car. Though tempting, we listened to the Black Belt, and that is how we came to learn about the joy that is Taco Cabana.
...

I know that flat tires are a fact of car ownership. I know that our car is not to blame for the blowout that occurred. Still, I can't shake the feeling that this was the last straw. I blame myself.

A little less than 4 years ago, when we were making tons of money, we decided we would buy a car. To be fair, I have never bought a car before. My previous vehicles have all be hand-me-downs or belonged to my wife. I am also not a good haggler. I am a what salesman call "a guppy."

Our first mistake was to arrive at the Libertyville dealership about 20 minutes before closing time. Our salesman, Mark, had gotten the car washed and pulled it around so that we could test drive it. I must admit, I was seduced by how shiny and red it looked, and how clean the leather interior was. Not sure what to do next, I am embarrassed to tell you that I actually kicked the rear tire. I have no idea what a person is supposed to glean from this action, but my foot rebounded in a way that I deemed appropriate. Yes, there's plenty of air in that. It must have made Mark's day.

Power windows. Check. Tape deck. Check. Ability to crawl into the backseat from the front seat while your wife is driving. Check. Hurtling down the road at over 40 m.p.h., we were in love. No need to fight it. We began to pick out names for our shiny new used car.

As we headed back to the dealership to close on it, I began to worry that we might seem too eager, especially if, as I feared, the car was bugged so that Mark could listen in while we giggled and howled. At the table, we knew we would have to play it cool. We would make an offer, Mark would disappear into the office for a few minutes and return with a counter-offer, and so on. Instead, Mark sold us the car and we wrote him a check. It was almost as if he wanted to get rid of it. It was almost as if we had overpaid. 20 minutes into my drive home a light appeared in my dashboard:

Check Engine.

Rats.

Less than 4 years later, we have all but shelved our car. Avid bikers, we don't have a great need for an auto. This is fortunate since the litany of problems seems to grow with each trip. I just can't see putting any more money into it. I have toyed with the idea of selling the thing. My ad would read something like this:

1995 Volvo 850 Turbo (sorry, Turbo doesn't work). Amenities include newish catalytic converter, flesh-searing black interior, spoiler, original tires (3), original wiper blades, vintage Illinois plates (tags expired), one headlight for added stealth, seat warmers (passenger side only), cool manual turn signals. If you warm it up for 15+ minutes, original transmission still works. (If not, it's exciting to drive the entire way in 1st). Helpful on-board computer will make sure you never forget to "check engine." Pleasant odor after long trips. Will help you change your mind about how far you can walk somewhere. Makes for good stories. Will entertain all offers.

Pass it on.

* Def. - n. - 1. A cabin, or hut.
syn. - Party.

** As far as I can tell, it is WD40 at a higher cost.