Anyhow, Mr. Poity takes an interest, and I’ve loaned him a few of the Col. Churchward books on Mu.

My job with the One-Day Dealers’ Tire Service is an interesting one, and it makes some use of my skill with tools, although little use of my scientific training. I’m a tire regroover. What we do is pick up smoothies, that is, tires that are worn down so they have little or no tread left, and then I and the other regroovers take a hot point and groove right down to the casing, following the old tread pattern, so it looks as if there’s still rubber on the tire—whereas in actual fact there’s only the fabric of the casing left. And then we paint the regrooved tire with black rubbery paint, so it looks like a pretty darn good tire. Of course, if you have it on your car and you so much as back over a warm match, then boom! You have a flat. But usually a regrooved tire is good for a month or so. You can’t buy tires like I make, incidentally. We deal wholesale only, that is, with used car lots.

The job doesn’t pay much, but it’s sort of fun, figuring out the old tread pattern—sometimes you can scarcely see it. In fact, sometimes only an expert, a trained technician like myself, can see it and trace it. And you have to trace perfectly, because if you leave the old tread pattern, there’s a gouge mark that even an idiot can recognize as not having been made by the original machine. When I get done regrooving a tire, it doesn’t look hand-done by any means. It looks exactly the way it would look if a machine had done it, and, for a negroover, that’s the most satisfying feeling in the world.

2

Seville, California has a good public library. But the best thing about living in Seville is that in only a twenty-minute drive you’re over into Santa Cruz where the beach is and the amusement park is. And it’s four lanes all the way.

To me, though, the library has been important in forming my education and convictions.