The Case of the $400 Tire...

I got the tire on.  I'm not sure yet if I've destroyed it in doing so.  I won't probably know until it comes apart at high speed, pitching me into a series of bloody gymnastics across the freeway.  But, you know, whatever.  Wait, what do I write to reassure my mother here?  Uhh...  I've got nothing.

I got the tire on finally, then had to take it off again, because my patch didn't hold on the old tube.  I replaced it with the new one I bought for it.  Actually, only one of the new ones I bought for it.  The first was the wrong size, and I can't return it.  Maybe I'll make a hat out of it.

My mistake was that I was failing to push the bead down into the well of the rim, giving it the extra room necessary to get the last bit over the lip of the rim.  Foolish of me.  It's kind of made not to make it over that bit of rim when the bead is set.

Anyway, you may be saying to yourself, "Why $400?  Are the fibers in the sidewalls of the tire made of gold thread?  Does the tire have nanorobots in it that assess the road surface in real time and change the shape and consistency of the rubber to maximize grip while minimizing rolling resistance?  Is it made from rubber recycled from the wheels on Elvis Presley's pink Cadillac convertible?"

Nope.

This is the rundown of the cost of the tire:

The Tire = $80
The Shipping = $10
The Air Compressor and Tire Slime = $20
The First (too small) Tube = $10
The Second (just right) Tube = $15
The 27mm Socket to Remove the Axle Nut = $5
The C Clamp for Breaking the Bead = $10
The Tire Irons = $10
The Fee for Retrieving My Truck After it was Towed Because I Needed to Put it Somewhere While I was Working on the Bike in the Garage and Foolishly Chose the Church Parking Lot Which I Didn't Know had Cars Towed on Saturday Night to Assure there is Room for Ward Members on Sunday Morning = $240

I know there were signs warning of towing, but I'd never actually seen anyone get towed.  There are cars in the lot every day of the week.  I think I'd parked there overnight before.  And I felt somewhat justified in parking there as it is my ward building.  Surely I'm a valid user.  So what if I parked there 12 hours early for my ward block.

When I walked over for church in the morning the truck was gone.  It was a familiar sinking feeling I've gotten pretty much every time I go to use it, ever since it got stolen out of my garage a few months ago.  But this time I was thinking maybe it would be better if it was stolen.  There weren't any tools or a stereo in it this time that could be taken and pawned.  And since the truck isn't worth much of anything in and of itself, the most likely scenario was that they'd use up the $60 of gas in the tank and ditch it, like last time.  I was pretty sure that the loss of  $60 was going to be less than the ransom if it had been towed.

I'd been booted once before, (ironically again at a church function) and so discovered the commonality between towing companies and Somali Pirates.  It's astounding to me that the state authorizes this kind of business.  In this example, the church has to pay a monthly retainer to a guy who operates out of a camper behind three gates in an industrial lot without a sign in Murray, who for that cash, occasionally comes and kidnaps people's cars and holds them for ransom.  And they get to charge absurd fees.  They're guaranteed by law.  I looked it up.  Astounding.  It's like the state and private entities co-opted The Shining Path, pays them a monthly wage, but get's nothing in return.  Except I guess their parking spaces back.

I wouldn't feel as bad if the church was getting the money for the towing itself.  That would probably seem pretty sketchy to me, but to have my tithing dollars going to giving me the opportunity to have my car legally stolen?  It seems somehow perverse.

Oh well.  What can you do?

The replacement for the front tire on my bike arrived by UPS today.  Time for round two.  Heaven help me.