About a month ago I discovered that my SUV needed some new tires.  My kids (four boys) told me to “man up” and get something more aggressive so that I wouldn’t look like such a putz when we go do cool guy stuff like dropping them off at basketball practice and going grocery shopping.  I did way more internet research than anyone should really be doing about anything of such little consequence (no insult intended to Mr.’s Michelin nor Goodrich for trivializing their life’s work).  I ran about a hundred calculations on everything from aspect ratio, tire clearance, and MPG, to ride quality, braking distance, & effective MPH. It was absurd.

Wanting to drive a superhero dad vehicle, I finally decided on a particular brand and a particular size.  I go to my preferred retailer where he tells me about a killer deal on the next size up.  I now know the math by heart; it’s only .55″ larger circumference, which is roughly a quarter inch of clearance.  That would give my speedometer another 1 MPH variance when cruising at 70. The efficiency and acceleration performance should be equally as negligible. That should work and I am nothing if not a sucker for a good deal. With these new, bigger tires installed I feel like I can drive over anything; they look so tough.  I’m excited to take the boys to the next monster truck rally with my head held high!  Then I drive over a gutter with the wheel turned about halfway: there’s rubbing.  I hit a dip on Geneva Road at 55: major rubbing.  Ugh.

I head back to the counter and order the size I had originally wanted.  $200 is not worth structural damage and the perception of vehicle flatulence.  Smaller rubber isn’t as cool looking, but more practical.  Thank goodness for a 30 day return policy.  “They should be delivered to the store tomorrow” he says.  I feel relieved.  Later that afternoon as I am driving I get a phone call saying that the desired size is on back order.  Can I wait?  At that very moment I am sent a message from the car gods as I pull into a strip mall: “bbbrrrrruuuuummmm”.  More rubbing; “no, I can’t wait”. He recommends a lower profile tire that’s in stock.  They get installed and there’s no rubbing, but after only 10 miles I notice a subpar ride quality and my car looks like something out of a Cheech and Chong movie. I hate it.

I call back.  “I can wait for the right size.  These aren’t going to work”.  “I completely understand” is the reply. I express gratitude for his patience and expertise. Those tires will finally be installed later this afternoon.  I am nervous but hopeful.  It’s only four tires on one car, but given the amount of mental energy I’ve put into the purchase, I am 100% invested in getting it right.

Now imagine that you’re a think tank of 12 of the nation’s brightest intellects trying to determine what one key interest rate is best for 335 million Americans–nay, the entire world.  The data you analyze is ubiquitous, all encompassing, always conflicting, and constantly changing.  That group will convene next week to decipher, debate, and decide what to do with interest rates.  The job market continues to soften, but inflation has spiked again this week.  Will next week end as 96.9% of the odds forecast it to with a 0.25% rate cut?  Or will there be a plot twist in our fairy tale?