In music, it is widely known that volume is inversely proportional to talent.
In women's clothing, the less material used, the higher the cost.
This morning, we came across a similar law for cars: the less actual rubber in a tire, the more expensive it is.
You might remember that I have exclusively owned land yachts; cars that have different area codes in the front and rear seats. These automobiles had humongous tires. If you stacked up the tires, you could comfortably fit a small family in them, standing up.
Since the money I earn goes to medical costs and taxes, we had no choice but to bite the bullet and purchase an almost new car. A small(er) car. Some would call it a mid-size sedan. Some would call it a full-size car. I call it a Hyundai Sonata (as in Sonata big car).
The first thing I noticed when I saw the car was that it had ethnic wheels. This is a recent phenomenon, wherein the wheel is huge and the tire small. If the owner is particularly nuts, the wheels appear to spin backwards. If other drivers are particularly intoxicated, the wheels all spin in different directions anyway.
Possibly as a result of ethnic wheels, the ride is bumpy as hell. Never mind that I'm used to humongous eight-cylinder American cars.
Insult was added to injury this morning, as my wife went to get new tires. She had done some research and budgeted a certain amount, only to discover that these tires are performance tires.
Everybody say it at the same time: "Performance tires on a Hyundai?"
That's what my wife said. That's what I said. The mechanic just shook his head, sadly bemused.
Six to nine hundred dollars for tires?
Why does a six-cylinder sedan that can't best twenty-two miles per gallon require performance tires? Whatever happened to couch tires? Bloated tires? Running over speed bumps and small cars without knowing it tires?
I haven't even mentioned that someone sideswiped my wife and ran her off the road the other day.
This is not looking like a good week.