Bob decided to purchase a new all-wheel drive SUV in 2016.
I was one of the original equipment tires on the SUV.
I was brand new, black and shiny and felt pumped.
I was more than ready for the long haul.
People talk about vehicles with loud tire noise.
It is actually their tires singing the blues.
Our voices tend to always sound a bit flat
because vocals aren’t really in our wheelhouse.
We feel the blues because of the way we are abused.
We are all season tires, so the abuse is year-round.
We are asked to perform on hot blacktop and icy roads.
Our hard life involves hitting potholes and bumping curbs.
I really do try and get a grip, in all weather conditions.
The only time I get a “brake”,
and feel spared,
is in city driving.
This hard life wears you thin in no time at all.
My treadwear rating is 60,000 miles.
That is only if I am treated with respect,
rotated and kept at a required 32 lbs of air.
Sadly, these things did not happen
and I was underappreciated
and always taken for granted,
even though I was a life saving feature.
Tires cost lots of money
so you’d have thought
the idea of taking care of them,
would have gained traction.
If you’ve heard these statements before,
you can just consider this story a retread.
Because of Bob’s tire abuse,
I was bald and retired prematurely
with only 30,000 miles on me.
I was replaced with tires
costing twice as much as me.
I guess you’d call that inflation.
You have to be good and rich to afford tires today.
I now feel old and put out to pasture,
because of the trendy tires that replaced me.
They are those thin sidewall tires.
They are so skinny and flimsy
that they are more of a wheel condom
than an actual real rubber tire.
Mr. Wheel is going to be bent,
the first time these pseudo tires
are greeted by their first pothole.
Lazy Bob is going to have a new appreciation
for the work I did for those many years,
once he has to learn how to change
his very first flat tire.
So, now I’ve ended up in a scrapyard.
I finally have someone who truly loves me.
That is the female mosquitoes
that lay their thousands of eggs
in my warm and wet insides.
I must say I was happier pounding the pavement,
than laying still as a breeding grounds for bloodsuckers.
I think of this final resting place as some kind of a Purgatory.
I wonder how long my penance here is.
It worries me as I look around and see old timers,
like; red stripped wide ovals and white lettered tires.
Good god, do I see a Model T tire with a wood spoke wheel?
What sins could it have done to get such a long sentence here?
I was surprised to see so many whitewall tires about.
They always thought they were better than other tires.
We had to rise up and show them that black tires matter.
I was taught to believe in an afterlife called, “Tire Heaven.”
That is where tires get to be tire swings for happy children.
I look forward to those future Goodyears.
Johnny Cash: Thanksgiving Prayer https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=egIB7tYW80M&t=29s
“If you’re really thankful, what do you do? You share.” ~ W. Clement Stone
Happy Thanksgiving!
Elecpencil 