Yeah, I was pretty happy about that.
I swung over to the repair shop 50 yards from our lot, mainly because it was close and I wouldn't have to swap out the spare. Much like changing your own oil, I tend to pay a few bucks to avoid doing shit work.
The mechanic over there charged me $17.50 to goop the tire and tell me to get it fixed soon. Guess what? They sell tires too! For the record, no I wouldn't be interested in that.
I drive the old gal home with a goopy, booger encased tire and sat around for a little while wondering just how in the hell I'd be paying for new shoes for the old truck. Much to my delight a new set of pretty snazzy off-roaders will go for about $450 with the lifetime package - which I used to be somewhat skeptical about, but for residents of Chicago, DC, Maryland and a few other spots, I got the guarantee with Just Tires and have had two flats repaired free of charge by them and have become a new convert.
So for 450 bones, I'll get some pretty sweet tires and after looking around for 10 minutes at the tire shop I realized how much I'll miss the old treads. Much like the preemptive remorse you feel before a haircut (Aww... I know I just booked an appointment, but maybe I can stretch this another week or so... Wait is this just me? OK, just me - moving on).
These are the tires I bought as my first truly adult purchase when I opted to get new tires instead of taking that cash and going on vacation with some friends over Thanksgiving. I realized that day that being grown up can suck a lot.
Also the tires that I had on the truck when I moved into the city apartment with the guys and two years later to Washington, D.C. They took me to Minnesota to surprise The Girl and back home to Chicago when D.C. was over. Countless bad first dates and utterly forgettable trips to Target and the grocery store.
They took me to the major Civil War battlefields on the East Coast because I'm a nerd like that and to and from the shelter this winter when there wasn't a lot to look forward to outside of this house. From Lucky's first trip to the vet and to the beach the day he learned to swim, it's been a pretty good time.
Now, they're just balding scraps of rubber that are on their last few miles and need to go. Still, I can't help but look back on the past 50,000 miles and just shake my head at how much things have changed.
That counts for all the good and not so good, and for a truck with no power accessories or cruise control, I take a small degree of pleasure in knowing that I've been present for every mile that's been put on that lovable old heap.
It's not like the truck is going away and I'm tired and muddying the point, but rarely do you hit a point in your life where the real and imagined miles you've traveled intersect like this.
I'm due in Wednesday morning to get the swap done - I might have to make sure to take a really good final ride on my way home tomorrow.
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