Good Friday

So, (have you noticed how I like to start off with “so”? Yeah, me too.) several years ago on Good Friday, the roof blew off of my apartment building. Today, noting it was Good Friday, I laughingly thought to myself “I sure hope my house doesn’t blow down again”. Anyway, bright and early, before the sun was really up, I needed to run to the bank. Immediately I sensed something was amiss with the car. My right rear tire was flat, completely flat. It’s 30-something degrees, raining just a bit, and I’ve got to change the tire, get to the bank, get to bed, and go to work tonight. I get the tire changed by 7-ish and decide that I’ll go ahead and hit Discount Tire right after they open at 8 and cash in my road hazard free replacement certificate… how busy could they be at 8 o’clock on a Friday morning?

Well, let me tell you, the Friday before Easter is apparently a very popular tire purchasing day, what with all the going to Grandma’s house and all. It reminded me of the time that I decided that the day before Thanksgiving was the perfect day to get a haircut. Who gets a haircut the day before Thanksgiving, after all? I’ll tell you who; every man in the world, that’s who!

Anyway, as I was limping the 20 or so miles to the nearest Discount Tire on that ridiculous looking miniature spare tire, bemoaning my misfortune, a thought occurred to me. Compared to the day that Jesus fella had a couple of thousand years ago, I really didn’t have a thing to complain about.

The moral to this story? Don’t buy tires on Good Friday if you can help it, don’t get your hair cut the day before Thanksgiving, and for Heaven’s sake; don’t sweat the small stuff.