Just a Little Tire Vibration
When I was driving to a client meeting in Northern Jersey last Monday I noticed that I had a little tire vibration when I went above 70 mph. That’s unusual for my car, but I guessed that it was a wheel out of balance and pressed on. I got there and back no problem. I wasn’t so lucky last night.
It Was a Little More Than Just a Little Tire Vibration (or, Frankie’s a Little Slow on the Draw)
As Sheryl and I were driving on I-95 just north of the airport, my right rear passenger tire’s sidewall blew out. At the time I was in the second-to-the-leftmost lane. I had to cross 3 lanes of traffic with cars going 75+ mph and get on the shoulder. Thankfully, Sheryl prevailed on me to roll along a little bit and that took a corner out of play and got us on the early entrance part of an exit. Still, cars were flying by.
I Have AAA, but I’m a Tire Changing Machine…or Fool
Now, you should know this: I’ve changed a lot of tires in my life. And even though it’s a hassle, I know how to make it happen. That’s when my overconfidence kicked into gear. First, I’ve never changed a tire on this car. And in good BMW tradition, every single piece that I needed to make tire changing happen was bolted down and stored in its own special spot. About that time, Sheryl got out of the car with the owner’s manual and crossed the guardrail. She said she’d look out for cars that didn’t realize we were broken down and on the shoulder. I’d have to use my jungle-cat reflexes to jump out of the way in case some idiot didn’t see my fat ass. Ah…but they did.
They Can See Your Crack
I finally got down to business. The lugs nuts were tighter than Britney Spears’ jeans after a Frozen Macchiatto binge at Starbucks. Unfortunately, my dress pants weren’t quite that tight, and when I was hauling and tugging on the lug wrench with every bit of my strength, Sheryl said these words of encouragement: “They can see your crack.”
If I Won the Lottery, the First Thing I’d Do Is Buy a New Ass, Because Mine Has a Crack in It
Just great. I can’t get the lugs nuts off and people driving down the road, already happy that a Beemer is broken down, now see my ass hanging out in the wind. And Sheryl’s embarrassed. At that point I said, “I don’t care! I’m breaking my back doing this. I mean, look, it already cracked my ass.” But I stood up and took a different tack. I couldn’t pull on the lug nuts because I’d be doing a Britney to South Philly, so I decided to stand on the lug wrench.
Sometimes Gravity Is My Friend
I’m glad I get the 3 pancakes breakfast at Paoli Diner, because without it, Sheryl and I would still be stranded on I-95. Instead, it took all my bulk, plus me bouncing on the lug wrench, to get the lugs loose. But it worked. And once that happened, I had the tire changed (carefully concealing my backside) and we were on our way to the ballet. (More on that later.)
A Few Life Lessons I Learned While Changing a Tire on I-95
- There’s no such thing as “just a little tire vibration”
- I-95 isn’t one of the best places to have a blowout
- If you’re gonna go commando, at least wear a shirt that’s long enough to cover your ass in case you have to bend down and change a tire because you didn’t follow Rule #1
