Yesterday’s Flat Tire Cries for a Western Open

Yesterday, coming home from work, I stopped at a business on Lincoln Highway for dinner.  My car was fine.  When I returned home, about 1.5 miles later, my left front tire was nearly flat.

It was about 5:30 p.m. and I had a meeting to get to for 6:00 p.m.  So, I swapped the tire for the never-used donut wheel in the trunk of my car.  As luck would have it, or the fact that I never checked on that spare since I bought the car, the . . .

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