With Mrs. Murphy in the Brougham, things were perking along well. We’d eaten, drunk, and been merry in the Big Easy and I felt confident about the trip ahead. Who wouldn’t be happier with Mrs. Murphy by their side, I ask you?
The sun shimmered on the highway and the palmettos seemed to wave goodbye as we entered the Magnolia State. Then something else seemed to be waving–the back end. Hmmm. Odd. It felt as if . . . . no, can’t be.
Surely the damed tire can’t be leaking air again. Surely. We pulled over at a Big Gulp. While Mrs. Murphy went inside to buy some of the requisite Slim Jims and Coca Colas, I examined the right rear tire.
Son of a Bailout! The gauge read 20 pounds.
This can’t be. Why me, Lord? I cussed the old Brougham, and cussed her good. Sailors raised their eyebrows. Little old ladies gasped in horror. Mothers took young children away covering their tiny ears. Mrs. Murphy thought I was going to have a minor stroke.
Instead, I filled up the tire with air for the eight-millionth time, and made tracks for the nearest tire shop. I was going to fix this, and fix it good. My idea: buy an inner tube and call it a day. Delta World Tire in Gulfport told me via telephone that they indeed had 15-inch inner tubes and would be delighted to sell me one, but that the law mandated they couldn’t mount it.
Thanks, Nancy, I thought. Note to self: send the Speaker a used tire.
“Fine,” I told the people at Delta World Tire. I’d wield a tire iron myself, if necessary, and mount my own tire. How hard could that be in 90-degree weather in South Mississippi?
Fortunately, my better senses prevailed in Delta World Tire’s lobby and asked them to check the rim. Unbelievably, the steel rim on tire #2 had also split just as another rim had done in Boston. What gives with these Cadillac rims?
“Metal fatigue,” says Mike of Valley Wire Wheel Service in Van Nuys, California, “those old rims are hitting 50 years old and we’re starting to see some of this.”
Well, I guess you see more metal fatigue when you drive a car 15,000 miles. And you can’t say I wasn’t warned by Priestess Miriam back in New Orleans.
Happily, Delta World Tire had a rim that fit and $50 later we were rolling towards Jefferson Davis’ home, happy sightseers with one really ugly wheel.