BLOW-OUT!

Okay, it wasn't going to be a great week to begin with, what with it being the last week of my contract at the "1's n '0's Ranch," and me driving off the cliff without a net on the other side...not that I hadn't been trying. A lot of work I'd been promised didn't materialize, and...really, I've been looking for something full-time to pay the bills.

So, I was about to leave that one job I've had for a year (Blow-Out #1) --that was looming up on me, then K. took off for a couple of days. The dog had been having gastric problems (Blow-Out *ahem* #2) which was solved by a little more strict diet (no popcorn for the doggy!) but did put a little strain in the relationship with the dog-sitter.

So, it was my penultimate day at the Ranch. I left a little later than normal to run an errand in Burien--getting the dog's regular food, in both senses of the word--and headed for home. As I was crossing the First Avenue Bridge, a car pulled up alongside, the window rolled down and a kid pointed at my driverside-rear tire and made a little gesture with thumb and forefinger that my tire had about an inch of air in it (Blow-Out #3).

Great! Now, a prudent person would have pulled over and checked the situation out before proceeding any further.

A prudent person would have. Me, I kept driving. I had to check my mail, and there was all sorts of other very important things to do...miles to go before I slept, that sort of thing. So, I checked my mail...nothing (Natch'), so I drove down a back alley to fill my failing tire with air. I did this two other times before hitting the ferry (at 75 cents a pop), and rolodexed through my mind what I had to do: A) Survive the ferry-ride; B) drive off the ferry; C) fill the tire with air again or D) change it; E) Pick up Smokey; F) Drive home. I knew that in order to accomplish E and F, I had to either C or D, so having A'd, I B'd and proceeded to the nearest convenience store/gas station to C or D. By the time I got there, I saw that the tire was failing faster than before, so if I was going to get my dog and get home, I'd have to change the tire immediately. But when I pulled out my spare, I noticed...no jack! I'd given mine to K for her car and never replaced it. However, the kind register-jockey at the convenience store allowed me to borrow the one in her van (damned charitable, I thought) and I started the process of jacking up the car and taking off the lug-nuts, which was surprisingly easy. The jack slipped a couple times, as it was engineered for my car, but I recieved from help from a passing mechanic and his trusty/rusty ratchet set. I received no help from a sheriif's deputy who was making sure I wasn't siphoning gas, and then promptly split.

With spare on, I got Smokey and the two of us went home. I didn't even bother with dinner. I just fell into bed and went right to sleep.

On the morning of my last day, I dropped Smokey at the sitter's and went to Les Schwab on the Island, and they suggested I buy four tires, my set looking very bald. No, no, I said. Let's just get two and I'll be back in a month for the other two. I was being cheaping and promised myself I'd buy them further down the road, as it were.

I got to the Ranch just in time to hit the office before my "Last Lunch" and office-roomie Simon begged a ride to the restaurant--an Indian place with a great lunch buffet. We approached my car, and I said to him, "Does it look like my passenger-front tire is low?" "Yeah," he said, "By half. It's going to be flat by the time we get back from lunch." We were late already, so I took that chance.

Lunch was great, and, right as rain (and it was raining a lot at that time), the tire was completely flat (Blow-Out #4) by the time I got back to check. There was nothing to do, but drive the car...with the flat (after all, it was only flat on one side!)...to the nearest gas station, fill it with air and proceed to the nearest Schwab. 40 minutes later, I had two more brand new tires to go along with the others. a lighter wallet, but a nice Les Schwab warranty in my glove compartment. I was able to attend meetings, wrap things up and get out of there at a reasonable hour.

As far as last days go, it wasn't the worst, but my advice is: If you're going to have a blow-out, you might as well do it all in one shot. Economical, that way.

And when driving away, best to do it safely...on four good tires.

And that's where the rubber meets the road.

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Marshall Rogers passed away. I always thought he drew the best version of Batman 'way back in the 70's with the series of stories written by Steve Englehart for Detective Comics. That story arc combined the best of Batman's Rogues Gallery, a return of one of his earliest villains, a ghost story, a love story and one of the best characterizations of The Joker ever written.

But Rogers' art style grabbed me. It was dynamic and elegant. Angular in its framing and very clean in line. Plus, he drew the best capes in the business. Rogers was very respectful of the look of the Golden Age comics--he had to be, as so much of Englehart's story was an homage to that era of story-telling--and retained the theatricality and poise that the artists brought to them. Besides those issues of Detective he also drew G.I. Joe, Dr. Strange, The Silver Surfer, Mr. Miracle. He did a great adaptation of Harlan Ellison's "The Demon with the Glass Hand" for DC's short-lived science fiction line. He did the first run of "Batman" daily strips for the newspapers when "Batman" came back in fashion after the first Tim Burton movie.

He was 57. Seems awfully young.

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Song in me Head: "Nowhere Man" by the Beatles

Whistling: The "Sean Sean Sean" theme from "Duck, You Sucker" (Ennio Morricone)
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