THE MIRACULOUS PHYSICS OF FLATS
The flat Gods are in rare form lately.
Not pinch flats or running through glass shards, but that thick stick above that pierced my tire this morning.
The hole was so large that, when pulled out, the Stan’s sealant inside the tire sprayed all over my driveway.
Then there’s the odd nail or screw that occasionally lodges itself straight into my tire.
How does this happen?
Seriously, the mind boggles. And seethes.
Does the front tire kick it up into a not-quite-vertical position, angled just so it can ram into the oncoming rear tire? That seems like a one-in-a-billion shot, but it happens fairly often. Crafty flat Gods.
I imagine a scenario like those old, Gillette Atra commercial animations. You know the ones, where the first blade lifts up the whisker so the second can trim it off neatly. But in this case, my front tire lifts the stick/nail/screw up into a vertical position so the second tire can get stabbed cleanly.
It’s an unlikely, miraculously-precise scenario that happens regularly.
I’d prefer my cosmic luck to be applied to lottery tickets or professional success.
Or how about my tire dislodging a buried gold nugget and flipping it up into my jersey pocket? Is that asking too much?
I fear that my questioning has angered the flat Gods.
Never mind. All is fine. I said nothing.