If I agreed with you we'd both be wrong.

I'm certain there are couples who face unpleasant tasks with calm, charm, and a cooperative spirit. Al and I are not like that. We bicker and snarl, glare and mutter, and swear and sputter. This morning we rolled the bikes down to the elevators earlier than usual. It was a glorious morning, and we were both busy talking about where we wanted to ride, how many times over the bridge, and how many miles. We were at the street when we noticed. My rear tire was flat.

Al began practicing colorful language. Al hates fixing flats, and since the flat was on my bike, I was obviously at fault. We've been a couple for a good many decades. When adversity confronts, when tempers are short, there is only one sensible tactic: silence. After all, there isn't anything to discuss. After the first few years of living together you realize that there is just no high road, no right way to handle things. Handle what needs to be handled and move on. As quickly as possible.

In no time we were all fixed and back on the road.  We're doing about 3/4 of our normal daily mileage this week. We're working on setting up a basic 40 mile route for our daily ride. The Rickenbacker with the bridge to Virginia Key and the loop through Key Biscayne is where we're laying it out. The only real question now is how many bridge repeats we want included with the miles. I'm voting for four.

Today we were mellowed out by the time we got to the lighthouse. The houses of Stiltsville seemed closer than usual. We ate a couple of bananas while watching the houses off on the horizon. The flat tire was forgotten. We were in good spirits again. The day was glorious. The exertion of the ride felt wonderful.

It was time for a chocolate chunk cookie and espresso. That's something we can agree on and both be right.