My Youngest Son Started Flippin' Tires & Now I Know Why...

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My three boys grew up in a blue-collar home. For most of their childhood, they all slept in a 12' x 10' bedroom. There was one bunk bed and a plastic car bed for Dylan, which we believe led to his fear of night driving and falling asleep at the wheel. 

Eventually, when the kids were old enough, my wife closed her daycare and took a job for a school system. That's when I converted an area in the basement where the daycare was into a bedroom, and the oldest got it. My middle son took it when he went to college, and my youngest took it when he left for college.

My wife and I raised our three boys in a 40' x 24' split-entry ranch, which worked. They're all in their thirties now and still very close.

They all worked growing up. My oldest worked at Subway, where he honed his sandwich-making skills, at a gym, and as a physical therapist.

My middle son worked at Wendy's during the school year and on a farm just four houses down from ours in the summers. Later, my youngest son worked there, too. 

A husband and wife own the farm. The husband grew up in Sharon, like my wife and me, where his father owned and operated a small Chevy dealership that closed years ago. My father-in-law bought all his plumbing vans there.

Art went to an Agi high school and then studied agriculture in college, where he met his wife, Karen. They're both hard workers. It takes a lot to run a farm, and A Typical Farm is very successful. They grow and sell perennials commercially. They once told us our middle son, Nick, was one of the hardest-working and most productive kids they had ever employed.

One day, Dylan got a ride home from the farm with Art, and in the back of his truck was a 40" tractor tire mounted on an old, rusted rim. It was fucking huge and the kind of thing people look to get rid of, not acquire. After he and Art got the old tractor tire on the ground, Art drove away real quick, and Dylan started rolling it into our backyard. That's when I ran out immediately and asked him, "What the fuck is that?"

He said he was gonna use it to get in shape and that tire flipping is a great strength training exercise. Then he demonstrated it. 

It looked like it would either make you very fucking strong or injure you permanently. He said enthusiastically, "Dad, give it a try." I flipped it a few times, and rather than hurt myself, I knew when to stop. 

It was an unconventional way of training, but I approved of the acquisition. With one stipulation: when he was done, it had to be put in the corner of the yard out of the way. He agreed to the terms.

Then he asked if I could let him use an old tire and my 12-pound sledgehammer. I kept some older tires that still had usable tread under the deck just in case I got a flat on a newer tire and needed something quick. Keeping old tires under the deck wasn't a good look; my wife hated it, but it wasn't without purpose. I'm sure Fred Sanford would've approved…

I asked him what he needed the old tire for, and he said he was gonna use my 12-pound sledge to pound the tire, which was a good strength training exercise, too. I gave him one of the old tires and let him use my sledgehammer.

Next thing you know, he's got his friends over, and they're all flipping the tractor tire and pounding the other one with the sledgehammer. They set up other stations around the yard for sprints, crunches, and pushups, effectively converting my backyard into a gladiator training camp. It was all good, healthy stuff, and at first, Dylan rolled the tires into the corner and put the sledge in the shed when he was done.

Then he started leaving the tires in the yard and not putting the sledge away, claiming he was "exhausted" and would "do it later."

Later never came. Before I started the lawnmower, I had to move the tires myself, and that's when I saw all the dead grass underneath. At first, I flipped the tractor tire, thinking I'd get some exercise, but then I got smart and started rolling it into the corner, which was much easier.

Dylan flipped the tire for a few years, and between that and working out at the gym, he got jacked. He stopped playing soccer and baseball in favor of powerlifting, MMA, and boxing. That's when he started competing in Spartan Races.

Dylan competed in his first Spartan Race at 18. Here he is, muddy as fuck and climbing over some kind of obstacle…

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Then, after he and his girlfriend moved in together, the rusted tractor wheel and tire became mine. I've kept them in the corner of the yard for years, camouflaged by my neighbors' branches that grew through my chainlink fence. But they're still an eyesore.

My son married his girlfriend, and they recently bought a house. Their backyard is beautiful, and one of the first upgrades they made was installing a new vinyl fence. Along with the plush lawn, their backyard looks incredible! Much nicer than mine.

I'm gonna ask him when he's coming for the old, rusted tractor wheel and tire. He's 31 now, and he's been severely domesticated. He's no longer flippin' tires. Instead, he's flippin' burgers…

I'm gonna bet he doesn't want that old, rusted tractor tire in his yard… 

You know what you do after you buy your first house? Have a HOUSE PARTY!