A debit-card ain’t a rebate

“Thank you for your business,” trumpeted a flyer from Goodyear.
“We hope you enjoy your rebate and your new tires.”
“Um, Goodyear,” I said to myself; “a $60 debit-card is not a rebate.
It’s a blatant underhanded attempt to get me to sign for a card.”
A while ago I had a flat-tire. My car has slightly over 60,000 miles, so its original tires were about done.
I was going to replace this year.
The tire went flat just before my flight to south FL — a puncture by imbedded scissors. I thought it would cancel my trip.
But Triple-A installed the tiny donut spare, and I drove that to airport parking.
After I got back from FL, I went to my car-dealer to get new tires.
They wanted to sell me what I consider baloney.
PASS! I decided to try my Goodyear dealer, where I’d done well before.
“I don’t want water-balloons,” I told ‘em. “Good tires cost more, but that’s what I prefer.”
This was after installing premium sporting tires on previous cars.
862 smackaroos; all four tires — which I what I was gonna do anyway.
“Send in this form,” they told me. “You qualify for a $60 rebate.”
So came the flyer from Goodyear, containing my so-called “rebate.”
PASS! No extras card for this kid.
I only have one card; same one I’ve had for years— my credit-card.
I don’t need that $60. If it requires another card, pass.
Is this a result of our new prez?
ALTERNATIVE-FACT ALERT!
Suddenly a debit-card is my rebate.
Sloppy with the language. Next will be a tweeted card called my rebate.
I bet Facebook is already hip. Start  it and look out for tire-ads on the right side.
No longer is it nuclear armageddon. It’s “making America great again.”
And I have the awful temerity and unmitigated gall and horrific audacity to question what I think is misusing the language.
Sometimes I think my wife was lucky. She died five years ago.