Yep, fresh tires for muh truck.
Same size as stock, but these are new, all-terrain, rated ‘five out of five’ in winter conditions, and part of the Eagle Peak OffRoad Series or some fluffy marketing shit like that, saith the manufacturer.
I paid for them myself, not exactly, but purely and fully, even so.
I walked regardless, straight from the front door to the new business banking spot and back (fill that thing up willya, anaprim.com), and it hailed or maybe just sleeted on me.
I’m ready for May.
On the bright side when I got home I was inspired to warm up my standard electrolyte mix, on the stove and with a little something from a bottle labeled Horse Soldier Bourbon Whiskey.
It’s supposed to clear off this evening and get up to 71 tomorrow. Meanwhile, maybe the toasty cozy evening in will provide an opportunity to get some video posted again at last.
***
By the way.
Charles Bronson’s father died when he was ten.
Right after, he took over his dad’s job in a coal mine and was paid a dollar for every ton he moved.
He didn’t speak much English then because his parents had been immigrants from Lithuania.
A while later he got drafted into WWII, and he described being conscripted as the best thing that ever happened to him–he meant that in the sense of personal economics and quality of life.
After serving, his first acting jobs were performed under his real last name, Buchinski, and the reason he changed it to Bronson was mainly about Senator McCarthy and the Red Scare of the 50s.
He was never a Hollywood star until he was 53 years old, and around that time he met a married woman, made her his wife, and went on to star in 16 movies with her.
In 1968 he starred again, utterly brilliantly, as The Good (with Henry Fonda as The Bad and Jason Robards as The Ugly) in a movie called Once Upon A Time In The West. They fail, to make them like that, any more.
“He’s whittling on a piece of wood. I got a feeling when he stops whittlin’, something’s gonna happen.”
The Old West metaphorically dies forever and freedom is forever wiped out by civilization besides, in that perfectly glorious scene, along with the Bad and the Ugly.
But Bronson and the Good he embodies both survive that ending.
Nobody ever watched his later efforts at film, and nobody ever read a thing he wrote.
Yet out to the West, even now, there’s a trail that leads
Somewhere.