As you no doubt have noticed, I seem to be obsessed with remembering things, which is one of the reasons I started this thread. I wasn't sure where this fit in, but thought I 'd relate it here... for reasons. I've spent a lot of time in the last two years cooped up in my house, alone due to coronovirus. Most of my immediate family, brothers, sisters and mother, have all passed. I'm 63 now, and I remember things. I thought okay, I've been thinking about doing this anyway, plus it's a reason to get out of the house, so I've started writing my autobiography. So, about two days ago, I woke up and went to the supermarket to do some shopping. No problem there. Even bought some ice cream to chill out with. So on the way back, I started thinking about where I should go and revisit. Was going to go revisit Fayetteville street which still exists from my childhood. Was tryying to figure out where I should park, when I noticed that my car was getting rougher and rougher and harder to control. I pulled over to the side of the road and looked outside the door. My driver's side rear tire was flat. I got out of the car, and looked closer at it. It wasn't just flat, it was blown. I'm still at a loss to explain how it happened because I didn't hear it explode, but just looking at it you could tell, it exploded! To make a long story short, I called a tow truck, got a new tire and got back home. Now I'm afraid to go outside again.