The Iceberg Application: how to change a flat tire
By Jeannine Patané • 20 January 2007

     It was the slightest odd feeling as I began the descent; there was a bit of oscillating resistance. Was the rear wheel loosening up? Something wasn’t right. I looked down through the frame. Dang—a flat tire.
     I’ve put tens of thousands of miles on a bicycle, and once again, I’m experiencing the most common need for repair. The challenge with this flat was I had no tools or patch kit for the loaned, one-speed Cruiser bike, and I was running errands miles away from home. As soon as I dismounted and put both feet on the ground, time slowed for the rest of the day. There was nothing that could be done but accept the situation, start walking and take the scenes in as they passed by.
     Fortunately it was my day; no obligations to clients and no schedule to keep. No pressure on either side of the tire. I’ve had flat tires in the past that drove me to react in very different ways, but through miles and experience, I’ve become well versed on what it would take to happily end the day.
    I didn’t catch his name, only his observing eye and some of his knowledge. He was waiting for the city bus and noticed the flat. We struck up conversation—he shared where the nearest bike shop was and how long it would take to walk there. I thanked him, but decided the tire would wait until tomorrow. I had made a plan to get myself a juicy cheeseburger and cold beverage at my favorite haunt in order to fuel the rest of the walk home.
     The limping ride was hitched to the bike rack and I went inside. The regulars trickled in and we caught up on old business. The tire and the smallness of the situation turned out to be a good reason to catch up with friends and treat myself to a hot meal. I learned of a few more resources in the area through conversations. As the sun dropped and the evening blanketed down, the burger was eaten, the drink was finished and the check was paid. It was time for us to venture home.
     Moseying on out, I retrieved the bike and we walked to a store that carried tire tube patch kits. After purchasing the $2.69 delight for my lame transport, I was compelled to keep the spirit of the day alive by taking a new route home. The route proved to be the quickest, easiest way to our destination that I have yet to find as we explore the area.
     Like the tiny tip of an iceberg compared to the mass that rests under the water’s surface, what life throws at us is a miniscule amount in comparison to how we react. What lies underwater is the shape of our life—the foundation of our attitude. And like an iceberg, we have the ability to be ever dynamic and change our reaction. If we don’t have the prepared tools for what happens to us, then we have strength of our attitude to keep us afloat until we can assemble the necessary tool kit.
     I didn’t have any tools to fix my flat tire today, but I traveled far and enjoyed myself. May my next flat tire be so serendipitous as this.