When you get your annual physical every three or four years, you should be mindful not to miss the appointment. That’s why today was painful.
Someplace between home and Clinton Highway (not far at all), I picked up a nail. Thump, thump, thump led to my pulling into the new Weigel’s, figuring if anyone could make money selling air, it would be Bill Weigel. But no air was visible, and some guy munching on a pastry yelled, “Hey, sweetheart, you’ve got a flat.”
So, I called Halls Service Center. Andy dispatched a young man named Tyler who quickly found the spare (he had to lie on his back in the parking lot to ease the tire down from its home under the chassis). I phoned Dr. Emmett’s office to reschedule. She’s so busy I got an appointment for late March. Emmett specializes in old people, and when my other doctor died, I switched to her figuring I’d catch up to her specialty if we both survived. I did and we have.
Over at Halls Service Center, Ron fed me a tip on a super story for Saturday (stay tuned – it’s a surprise). Our Town USA – where a village of friends will do what it takes to keep each other rolling down the road.