Cars are not always our friends

Lynn Moncus

We seem to visit fairly frequently about the attacks of various kinds of gadgets and contraptions. Among the most frustrating attacks are made by our motor vehicles, which tend to blind side us at every turn. I keep threatening to trade my car off for a burro because I could communicate with that critter much more easily than with a four-wheeled monster.

Last week, for instance, I finally paid attention to the little light that kept telling me to change the oil and ambled in to have that job tended to only to learn that the two front tires were practically flat. Now, this car usually tells me when tires are low, but the oil-change message must have taken precedence, and the driver wasn’t paying any attention because she had learned to depend on the lights instead of the eyes and hadn’t even looked at the tires.

At any rate, the flats were repaired, the oil was changed, and the computers were reset so all appeared to be normal for a few days until Aggie and I decided to head into Quay Valley for our Sunday outing. We were both looking forward to doing some walking in the country and were considering our destination when “Low Tire Pressure” flashed on and caused a sudden stop. I walked around the car, kicking all tires, and saying a few words but couldn’t see any problem. In order to avoid disaster, however, I decided we had better return to town just in case all four tires were going flat at once.

We stopped several times during that twelve-mile return, but no tire seemed to be low. When we drove into our own garage, Aggie looked at me as id one of us had lost her mind. I tried to tell her she had forgotten that she really had walked, but she just stared back, knowing full well that she hadn’t put paw to ground and wasn’t about to pay any attention to my stories.

Before backing out the next morning, I looked at all tires and still couldn’t see any problem. The young man who had repaired the tires also checked and found nothing wrong. Apparently, that little computer just decided to ruin our trip and certainly did so. Thus far, it hasn’t acted up again but will probably save its energy until we try to get out of town again.

I really have had more flat tires on this car than I have had on all cars in the past. People tell me I drive on strange roads and even on no roads and can expect to have a little trouble. Well, I have been doing that kind of driving from the time I sat in my dad’s lap and steered the car across pastures and haven’t had such problems.

As you know, I have limited to no knowledge about anything mechanical or technical, but I can see that tires with treads too far apart are apt to pick up all sorts of foreign objects between those treads. The many flats let me know that logic still works even when direct knowledge is missing. I’m just about to test that logic by trading those tires even if they are still supposed to be good. I might even trade them for shoes to fit the burro so Aggie and I could ride off into the pasture. At least, I could carry an baseball bat to capture his attention when he decided to be stubborn; whereas, I can’t solve any problems by kicking the tires!