Slide

It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that combining fifty or so bicycle-riding troublemakers with five handles of whiskey, enough gallons of lemonade to disguise its taste, a city park that just happens to have an outdoor water spigot hookup, a fully-functional Wham-O Slip N Slide Double Rider, and a box full of handheld multi-colored laser pens is going to result in an unforgettable evening of hilarity and nonsense, but it does, I think, require some kind of twisted genius to come up with the idea in the first place.

And then, you’ve got to be committed enough to the cause that you’re willing to haul all the shit out there in your bike basket and panniers, including a fifty foot length of garden hose, but in the end, it’s got to be all worthwhile when you see heat after heat of sodden revelers throw themselves down the plastic raceway in an effort to snag the winning flag, with amazingly, not a single broken neck nor dislocated shoulder.

All most of us had to do, thanks again to tehJobies annual largesse on the eve of the Dead Baby Downhill, was just show up and ride (and drink, of course), and although I regret slightly not partaking of the slipping and sliding myself, I’m glad there were plenty of others more willing to risk life and limb in the pursuit of pleasure than me to provide so many lolz.

My favorite image of the night was a shirtless, back-lit Miles spraying racers with the garden hose as they streamed down the track; he could have been a bronze statue in the Bizarro-world version of the Trevi fountain in Rome; then somebody else (maybe Kevin?) took over and the way he held it was, by contrast, all Manneken Pis.

Still, each was perfect in its own way, which is pretty much my assessment of the evening overall, as well; distinctive brilliance is required for such manifest stupidity.