I remember a book about motorcycle maintenance that was a rage during my college days. This is not a book, but a mini-essay on my recent experience at fixing a flat tyre (do not vent your ire at the spelling, the English do spell it with a 'y').
I had a flat- it was doubtful at the start, and took its time deflating, but at the end, it was undoubtedly flat. Having ascertained the fact, the next step was to remove the spare tyre from the dickey (not the trunk), and replace the flat with the rounded.
There was only a small hitch. The last time I had fixed a flat myself without assistance of expert 'fixers' (not the IPL types) was about a decade ago. So I had to recall how I had done it then. A difficult thing, given the state of the random access memory (also known as RAM). But then, with an indomitable spirit (no, not the kind you are thinking of), I went to work, flat-out.
After a few ups and downs and wrong turns of the screw on the jack, I managed to lift the car off, unbolt the old tyre, and put the new one in its place (I discovered that I liked putting things in their place, just like people). It taught me a lesson. When you are willing to put in blood, sweat, toil and tears (though I only put in two of the above), nothing is impossible.
Getting a fix on the now-flat tyre was postponed to another day. After all, Rome was not won in a day. So why fight all your battles at one time?
I had a flat- it was doubtful at the start, and took its time deflating, but at the end, it was undoubtedly flat. Having ascertained the fact, the next step was to remove the spare tyre from the dickey (not the trunk), and replace the flat with the rounded.
There was only a small hitch. The last time I had fixed a flat myself without assistance of expert 'fixers' (not the IPL types) was about a decade ago. So I had to recall how I had done it then. A difficult thing, given the state of the random access memory (also known as RAM). But then, with an indomitable spirit (no, not the kind you are thinking of), I went to work, flat-out.
After a few ups and downs and wrong turns of the screw on the jack, I managed to lift the car off, unbolt the old tyre, and put the new one in its place (I discovered that I liked putting things in their place, just like people). It taught me a lesson. When you are willing to put in blood, sweat, toil and tears (though I only put in two of the above), nothing is impossible.
Getting a fix on the now-flat tyre was postponed to another day. After all, Rome was not won in a day. So why fight all your battles at one time?
2 comments:
I thought the English got Punctures.
Yeah, the yankees flattened me.
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