On a week that belongs to the ladies*, it would seem a strange choice–even callous, confrontational, “aggro”–to run with a testosterone-fueled post like one focused on the Mr. Tire Muffler Man, but hear this blogger out.
There we were–Mrs. The Orbit and her fella–heading to Our Nation’s Capital to defend Democracy. You’re welcome. But with a few extra ticks on the clock and taking any excuse to avoid the turnpike, we opted for the slightly longer trajectory via Rt. 51 and had a chance to check in with Mr. Tire himself in his home base in Uniontown.
The picture of male virility, Muffler Man isn’t fooling around. Mr. Tire stands much larger than life [he’s around 30 feet tall, not including his stone pedestal]–biceps tensing the short sleeves of his work shirt, steely eyes on an emotionless face, close-cropped Just For Men facial hair, and a brimless cap that says “I was a lumberjack in a previous life; now I’m a tire guy.”
Muffler Man possesses all the classic qualities–or, at least, fantasy stereotypes–we’re led to believe men were, you know, back when America was “great”. He’s tall, dark, strong, and silent; a man of action who’s ready to put his giant hands to work. This seems all the more appropriate in the first hazy rays of the new dawn of America.
Muffler Man isn’t the kind of guy who stays up all night sniping petty insults on the computer Internet. No, most days he pulls a double with an evening appointment to look under Mrs. Tire’s hood, make sure the engine’s still purring, and maybe check out her tailpipe. If he does his job, she’ll be leaving in the morning as a satisfied customer.
This working man ain’t the high-tech type–you can call him at the phone on the wall or catch him at the bar after his shift. Muffler Man doesn’t talk a lot, but when he does, he’d rather deflate all eighteen wheels than tell a lie. Liars don’t last long in Mr. Tire’s town.
Recently, we’ve heard a whole lot about our new “tough guy”-in-chief and the “forgotten men” he speaks for. That whole notion can seem both a little absurd and totally apropos in the face of millions of protesters–a majority of them women of every imaginable demographic–filling cities across the country (and the world) last Saturday. Maybe it’s time for some of those tough guys to finally learn something from the ladies–and even from Muffler Man. Stand up, shut up, roll up your sleeves and get to work doing the right thing.
Getting there: Mr. Tire is at 350 Pittsburgh Street, Uniontown. If you come down Rt. 51, just keep going straight and you definitely can’t miss it.
Related: Muffler Man: The Cadet Cowboy, Pittsburgh Orbit, May 22, 2016.
* Let’s hope it’s actually a month, a year, or time going forward, but that remains to be seen.