By RON MALY
It's already been an interesting week, and not just because of the crazy [although healthy] breakfast I wrote about yesterday.
It all began Monday.
A guy I know emailed me to see if I wanted to join a group of three others for lunch the next day at the High Life Lounge in downtown Des Moines.
I've written about that joint before. It's a decent enough place to eat, and an even better place to carry on a conversation about this and that--mostly that.
The four of us--all veterans of the print news business--gathered at 12:30 p.m. Tuesday, and the High Life was mostly full.
As usual, we covered the waterfront, settling issues that guys who have been settling issues for years and years can handle in 90 minutes.
We covered collegiate basketball and football, the overkill a lot of folks think is going on with some of the coverage of the Division I teams at the paper, high school stuff, the new editor at the paper and how some people think the place could've done better...things like that.
My lunch consisted of a $2.95 fried egg-and-cheese sandwich, plus black coffee and several refills.
Pretty cheap entertainment on another cold, windy winter day in central Iowa.
Then the fun began.
Oh, sure.
In retrospect, my mistake, was not driving The Official Car Of These Columns--the 1989 Toyota Camry--to the lunch.
Instead, I drove the 1998 Honda Accord, which doesn't get driven much around town.
My idea Tuesday was to make sure the new battery I had installed in the Honda was working all right, and to--as we used to say when I was 16 and owned a 1937 Ford coupe --"blow the cobs [as in cobwebs] out of the motor."
I blew the cobs out of the Honda that day, and also got a flat tire out of the deal.
Just as I left downtown, I began noticing a strange sound and feel on the rear right side of the car.
It felt like a flat. Or at least the start of a flat.
I was glad I wasn't on the freeway.
But Grand Avenue in Des Moines at that time of day was bad enough. There was, of course, plenty of traffic.
I needed someplace where I could turn into so I could see what the problem was.
Finally, at about 24th and Grand, I turned into the small parking lot serving a medical clinic.
Naturally, the signs said any car parked there by someone not visiting the medical clinic would be towed away.
After I parked the car, I checked the right rear tire, and it was flatter than one of the buckwheat pancakes I used to eat when I was having a 2 p.m. breakfast with photographer Bob Modersohn at the old Boswell's Restaurant in the previous century.
That,of course, was when we were "on assignment" for the paper.
Now I was standing in the cold wind, and obviously needed help.
I knew one of the guys I'd had lunch with was probably headed west, so I called him on my cell phone.
"I need a ride home," I told the guy. "Where are you?"
"I just got on the freeway," he said.
"Maybe you can pick me up at 24th and Grand," I told him. "I've got a flat tire and I'll need to get the car towed somewhere to get it fixed.
"But first I've got to touch base with my insurance company so I can get the car towed to whatever repair place is covered by my towing insurance."
The guy arrived in 5 minutes, took me home, and I made arrangements to have the car towed to a tire repair facility four blocks away from where the Honda was sitting.
However, I had to drive The Official Car Of These Columns back to the Honda because the guy driving the tow truck [he had earrings in both ears] needed the car key.
I met the Honda at the repair place, and the news went from bad to worse.
"This tire can't be fixed," the mechanic said. "It's pretty old. In fact, it looks like you've still got the original tires the car had when you bought it in 1998, right?"
"Right," I said. "The original tires. This car doesn't get driven much. So go ahead and put a new tire on the rim."
Then the boss got into the picture.
The boss at the repair shop, I mean.
He said he thought it would be a good idea to replace both rear tires.
"I don't want to put any pressure on you," he added, "but national car safety regulations say all cars should have the tires replaced inside of 5 years.
"Your Honda is going on 16 years of age, and you're still driving on the original tires. Maybe it would be best if you replaced all four tires, but I'll leave that up to you."
I thought about it a minute or two, and decided four new tires would be the right thing to do.
"I think you made the right decision," the boss said. "But I've got to call a place in Minnesota to get two other tires for you. I've got only two in the shop that fit your car."
"Do whatever you need to do. Let me know when the car is ready," I said.
"Probably sometime Friday," he answered.
But the boss called me on my cell phone yesterday.
The call came when I was talking to one of my doctors in her office.
"The tires got here sooner than I expected," the boss said. "So your car is ready "
My bill, not including the $61 towing charge [which is covered by insurance] for the tires was $558.62 [$379.96 for the tires, $108 for labor. $39.04 for shop supplies and 31.62 tax].
So, adding the $5.20 I paid for my fried egg-and-cheese sandwich and black coffee at the High Life, my bill for the day was $563.82.
It turned out to be an expensive lunch.
All I hope is that the new tires last another 16 years.
