Don’t try dunking this donut in your coffee

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DRIVER'S SIDE DIATRIBE
By Al Vinikour    
Al@motorwayamerica.com

Can you remember far enough back when all cars had full-size spares in their trunk? Maybe you were distracted by the hordes of dinosaurs that roamed the earth and didn’t have the time to see things around you, but trust me, they all had big tires (the cars not the dinosaurs).
And one reason they were able to have full-size tires is because practically every vehicle had a full-size trunk. And there was no alternative except not having a spare.

Often times a spare was one’s only salvation when making a long trip. Then, one day a car was driving around on something that looked like a scooter tire. The only resemblance to a real tire was that it was round…and had rubber. Other than that it looked like something you’d see at “Clowns Are Us.”

Thus started the trend that still haunts us; instead of a full-size spare tire that has been around since the beginning of time, cars started shrinking and so did the size of their trunks.

Consequently, the decision would have to be made of whether a driver might want a full-size spare tire or would he rather bring along his luggage, there wasn’t room for both. If the choice was his luggage there still was a spare tire inside the trunk (or “cargo bay” as it’s now called). This new, small tire – euphemistically called a “donut” was basically a smaller, solid rubber tire similar to something you’d find on a Model-T Ford; except you’d be just as apt to find one on a Chevrolet Cobalt proving size does matter. 

I can understand the space restrictions. But the underlying fact is these “donuts” only have a range of about 50 miles. That’s fine if you’re driving down a major thoroughfare that’s loaded with Belle Tire and Discount Tire stores. But what happens if you’re out in the middle of Death Valley – where the only life for 100 miles is the International House of Rattlesnakes? If the donut gives out after 65 miles you might as well use whatever saliva you still have in your mouth to kiss your ass good-bye.

As if this weren’t bad enough, some car companies must think they’re an airline because some have even charged extra for a “full-sized spare.” Well ain’t that a kick in the tire? Also, some manufacturers aren’t even offering a spare!

They are either installing horrendously expensive run-flat tires or have some kind of pressure device to pump the tire up again to get you to where you can get a new one (unless you’re at the same location in Death Valley, that is).

However, catch this! Being the conspiratorial entrepreneur that I am I’m predicting the massive emergence of a future business. Just like you can rent a car, a kayak, a mule or a tuxedo, there’s soon to be a spate of “Rent-a-Spare” dealerships throughout the country. For instance, let’s say you’re taking the in-laws through Death Valley for a “tour.” Just before you enter the area you’ll find a huge, modernistic steel and glass facility that rents tires. You’ll stop in and be given a jaw-dropping price to rent a tire.

As you’re standing there contemplating whether you have enough equity in your home to rent this thing for a couple of hundred miles you notice that there are pictures on every wall of sagebrush, skeletons, searing sun and other creepy sites you’ll be encountering for the next few hours. So you grudgingly plop down the $300 rental fee (per day), along with a $500 deposit. 

Sometime later you’ll emerge from the desert and rejoin civilization. You stop at the first “Red’s House of Rubber” dealership to return the rented tire and will probably be told that there’s a turn-in fee of $100…and the balance of your deposit will be mailed to you. What choice do you have, Ralph? You’ve already put the fee on your credit card. Speaking of which, only then do you notice that Red’s House of Rubber is a wholly-owned subsidiary of Chase Bank. 

Some day when all this comes true you’ll remember this article and think that old Al wasn’t so crazy after all. Who’s the crazy one? You’re the one who drove through Death Valley.