Baldy May-Pops Lesson

Last week I brought my two Kayaks along, only I had but one paddle for them. So to remedy this, AJ and I drove 22 miles to Crawfordsville. There is a Walmart there, and two Sporting Goods stores. We'd soon find out that none of those had paddles.
So we navigated to Lebanon, another 18 miles, because the GPS said there was a Gander Mountain there. It was there alright, in the form of a huge warehouse, not a retail store. So we're roughly 40 miles from camp, still with no paddle, and a bit frustrated. We ate lunch/dinner, and navigated to Lafayette (another 30 miles) because I was dead-certain there was a Dicks Sporting Goods there.
And there was, but the parking lot was so full I had to park across the street at a Firestone.
But lo, I did buy a paddle, a fantastic one, and upon returning to the truck, slightly frustrated and now facing a night-kayak trip, I noticed the tire.
Absolutely flat.
I'd been riding for two years with the knowledge that should I have a flat, I would not have a spare, as the spare never holds air, and does not come down like it should from under the truck. It's stuck, and I was stuck.
But then it hit me that I parked at a Firestone.
Luck.
(The skeptic in me thought for a second that they might have deflated me in spite for having parked in their lot but I did notice a pull to the center when I had been applying brakes.)
The tires had 70,000 miles on them, and I was waging on them lasting for a bit.
Colin calls this type of situation "running Baldy May-Pops"
Instead now I'm running Bridgestone's. And my spare is new and functional.
And all the frustration of the journey ended with the best scenario possible under the certainty that the tires' time had come.
I could have returned from my night Kayaking and been absolutely stuck in the middle of the woods.
Coincidence or genuine care from above?