A deflating experience

So today’s helpful home improvement lesson: Super glue will not fix a flat tire.
Now, I know most of you, upon hearing this brilliant truism, would say, “No kidding, genius. Who would think it WOULD fix a flat?”
Well, I will tell you who: Acclaimed writer Saul Bellow, that’s who.
OK, so it was me. The upside to this, of course, is that it was not a car tire, but rather a wheelbarrow tire. Granted, I did have my entire family in it at the time of the flat.
Ha! Little joke there. There are no rides in the wheelbarrow. Not anymore. Nosirree. Apparently, SOME people in my house have a problem with children pitching in and, say, making sure nothing falls out of the wheelbarrow. And what better place to keep an eye on wheelbarrow contents than on top of the debris being hauled? Exactly. Defies reason, really.
I have actually known about the flat tire for a while. And I had dealt with it thusly: I would pump up the tire with air and try and use it as quickly as possible to before the tire went flat. Sometimes I would get two or three trips out it. And then I would pump it up and scurry about with it again.
So I had used my wheelbarrow like this for about two years when I called on it for some heavy duty action. Last year, I had six very large trees cut down in my backyard (thanks, ice storm!), and for some reason I asked the tree guy to leave the biggest oak for me to chop up for firewood. Do you realize that the bottom part of an adult oak tree is roughly the size of Vermont? Well, this immense pile of wood has stayed in my backyard since then, and my wife and I decided it was time to move it to a better place. For one thing, it was right next to the kids’ playground, and let’s be honest – a mountain of unstable logs beats a swing any day of the week, something my wife decided was just on the other side of unsafe.
So I started chopping what I could into stuff for the fireplace. After about two hours, I had filled up two very large wood piles. And the original pile of wood appeared to have actually grown. So at that point I decided I would move all of the wood to a spot in the yard where it was less enticing to children, and more easily accessible to anyone who wants firewood.
Most of the logs were big enough that I could carry them, but not exactly the things you’d want to haul across a yard all day long, so I decided to pile up the wheelbarrow with a heap of logs and cut the workload down.
When I placed the sixth log in the wheelbarrow, I looked down and saw that the wheel was flatter than usual. Apparently, the weight exceeded what I usually put in there, because even a sorta-flat wheelbarrow wheel works somewhat. I got out an electric air pump and turned it on. Odd, I thought, that it was taking so long to fill up. I turned off the pump and heard, “Sssssssssssssssssssss.”
When I moved my head closer to see if I could pinpoint where the air was coming from, I felt air blowing on my face. Pretty good sign that it was not how the tire was designed.
Turns out, there was a big roofing nail sticking through tire, which I guess is a better alternative than it sticking through my foot. Based on the amount of rust on the nail, I should probably get my wheelbarrow a tetanus shot.
I took the wheelbarrow into the garage to begin surgery. The nail was in pretty tight, so I decided that the nail was a fine addition, and I just needed to seal around it, making a permanent plug. My first choice was to use some plumber’s cement, which for some reason I own. I do not recall ever doing plumbing, so I am not sure why I own it. I opened the plumber’s cement and pulled out the stopper. When a big glob of solidified goo came out, I decided this stuff had seen its last day. Next stop – super glue. Hey, if this stuff can glue a guy in a hard hat to a steel beam, surely it can seal a little space around a nail. I dabbed the super glue around the nail and waited a few seconds. When I flipped on the air pump, the rush of super glue smell shot up towards me, and the air continued to ease out. OK, so this was a bad idea, too. I tried several other options, including my final failed attempt, which was to remove the roofing nail and replace it with a larger nail. After about an hour of trying to repair the wheel, a little voice deep in the recesses of my mind said, “Hey, genius – you can buy replacement tires.”
Sure enough, for about $20, I had a new tire, and even installed it myself with little fanfare. I guess I could have saved myself time and gone that route from the start. Of course, then I would have never known I had plumber’s cement.