So, I had just pulled out of Top Town, headed for the Rim, driving down the road minding my own business, just like I always do, when I heard a slight squealing sound as I rounded a curve. Thinking I might be going a tad too fast for the curve, I let up on the gas pedal. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but then I rounded another curve and the squeal became louder.
Then it struck me…”Dang-it! Here we go again, another flat tire,” I said to myself. Actually, I didn’t say “Dang-it.” It was a different, but similar sounding word, if you know what I mean. Anyhoo…is that a real word
So, I pulled into a turnout, swung the Mottmobile around and headed back up to Top Town to visit the tire shop to get my wounded tire patched or plugged, just like I’ve been doing several times a year for over 40 years.
Luckily, I made it to the tire shop just in the nick of time because, as I rounded the final curve, the Mottmobile let out a horrible grinding howl as it slid sideways and then suddenly corrected its direction of travel. I suspect it was the traction control mechanism kicking in. Again, luckily, the Linder boys were able to quickly nurse my perforated tire back to health, just as they have done several times a year for nearly four decades.
Typically, the culprit is either a wood screw or nail. This time, I got stuck by a roofing nail. It never fails, whether it’s a screw or nail, it always sticks to my tire like glue.
You can shake an apple off an apple tree. Shake-a, shake sugar, but you’ll never shake me. Uh-uh-uh, no sir-ee, uh, uh. I’m gonna stick like glue. Stick, because I’m stuck on you.
Uh, OK, so who can tell me the name of the person who sang that song? All right, you with your hand up, who was it? Nope, it wasn’t Roy Orbison, but that’s close. Uncle Mott will buy the first person who can correctly identify the singer a cheeseburger from the recently reopened A Burger in Crestline. The runner-up will get a free root beer shake. But I get the sticker for my Shop Small Bingo card. Just send me an email at UncleMott2@gmail.com.
Keep it flyin’,
Uncle Mott
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