Things a 42-Year-Old Shouldn't Be Doing - Part III

There's something very alluring about a Slip-N-Slide.  It could be the slipping.  Or perhaps it's the sliding.  I don't know.  Whatever the case, I was unable to control myself when the organizers of our church picnic unfurled one last weekend.

We had been playing volleyball in some pretty warm temperatures, and I saw a couple folks erecting the Slip-N-Slide at the top of a perfect hill.  Several other kids were already in line, and I knew I'd have to sprint up there to avoid standing in an even longer line.

I was very tempted to push my way to the front of the line because I'm a jerk, but then I remembered that this was a church picnic and God warns us against doing things like this ("Thou shalt not pushest thine way to the fronteth of the line for thou Slippest-and-Slideith").

So I waiteth my turn like everyone else, and debated how I should approach my ride.  Should I catch some air and jump down the hill, or should I just lie down and give myself a gentle push like an elderly person on a Slip-N-Slide should do in an attempt to avoid total organ failure?

Well, naturally I went with the "catch some air" approach, which really does launch a person pretty far, especially if that person has a few extra pounds in the gut region.  I decided that the Slip-N-Slide people should really consider making the plastic just a tad bit longer -- say 100 yards or so -- to accommodate people of my age and size.

I found that the standard Slip-N-Slide was woefully short, considering I continued slipping and sliding a long, long time after the plastic had run out.  This meant that I was whooshing through a grassy area, arms flailing, for quite a while before I came to rest practically out of sight of the picnic.

I should also note that my chest looked like some sort of weird Christmas display, glowing with red (from brush burns) and green (from grass stains).  But I am happy to say that I learned my lesson from that experience, and only repeated it three more times before calling it quits.

Things a 42-Year-Old Shouldn't Be Doing - Part II

Continuing my "what I did this summer" series of immature things, I must say that I had a blast at the Noah's Ark water park in Wisconsin last week!

Back in 1985, when cavemen still wandered the Earth, my uncle took my brother and me to this same park.  I have fond memories of that trip, and the great time we had splishing and splashing through the various rides.

Well, a lot has changed in the last 25 years.  The biggest ride at Noah's Ark back then was called "The Plunge." It was a pretty simple ride -- you lie on a mat and go down a fairly tall slide.  It's a bit of a wussy ride nowadays, by comparison.

This year they opened a new ride called the Scorpion's Tail (pictured above on the left; The Plunge is beside it on the right), and I must say it was the most awesomeist, butt kickingest ride ever.  I had seen it on the Travel Channel before we took our trip, and I knew that I had to do this baby.

You climb up a seemingly endless number of stairs (which is why my calf muscles are still aching), and you come to a transparent capsule thing.  You climb into the capsule (after being weighed by the staff, purely so they can mock you, I assume), and before you know it, a creepy woman's voice is giving you a 3-2-1 countdown.

Once the countdown is over, the bottom drops out of the capsule and WHOOOSH!  Away you go, falling 10 stories at 40 mph down the tube, and through a freakin' LOOP!  They should make a video of the faces of people as they get to the end of the countdown -- it's a riot to watch them!  Of course I faked a yawn each of the times Little Smoot and I rode it.

I will reluctantly admit that at the end of our first day, I was praising the good Lord for whoever invented the concept of the "lazy river" raft ride, which involved no line, and absolutely no physical exertion.

Coming Soon:  Part III -- The Slip-N-Slide

Things a 42-Year-Old Shouldn't Be Doing - Part I

I hope you have been enjoying your summer as much as I have.  I am happy to say that I have spent a disturbingly significant amount of time doing things that aren't appropriate for my age.  Actually, most things I've done this summer are more appropriate for the 9-13 year old demographic, if not younger.

Today's installment of "things a 42-year-old shouldn't be doing" is:  Capture the Flag.

If you're not familiar with this game, let me give a brief description (the term "brief description" will seem funnier a little later).  You divide into teams -- the more players the better, and you set up a field of play that can be pretty much any size.  Each team hides a flag on their side, and when the game starts, you try to find the opposing team's flags and bring them onto their own side of the field.  When you cross into your enemy's territory, they can tag you and haul your butt off to a jail area until someone from your team tags you to free you.

Ok, enough about the rules.  I should also mention that it's best to play this game in the full darkness of night, which I did a couple weeks ago with some of my closest friends from high school.  The full darkness thing was also beneficial for those of us who used the opportunity to participate in other "co-ed activities," back when we played this game in high school.

Our friend Todd has the world's most awesome field for Capture the Flag, the very same field we had a blast using back in our high school days when these things were much more appropriate.  As an aside, I feel that I should mention that Mrs. Smoot and another female friend in our age bracket opted out of our games this time around.  Booooo.  Hissssss.

Anyway, friends who did play came prepared for battle.  They brought their darkest clothes along, which helped them skulk through the field undetected.  I didn't have nearly as much foresight; I was wearing tan pants and a bright shirt which made me as invisible as a flashing neon sign.  I did, however, remember to bring my health insurance card along.

So as we began playing, I kept getting caught because everyone could detect my neon flashing shorts, and this got to be a bit frustrating.  About an hour into playing the game, it dawned on me that I was wearing really dark-colored underwear, so I made a strategic move.  I ditched my shorts, and put them in a spot that made it look like they could be the flag.  My shorts were now a very convincing decoy.

Sure, I was now running around in only my underwear in the middle of the night, but this actually worked fantastically well for a bit.  It's a terrible shame I don't have pictures of this, and I can only imagine your disappointment.

Anyway, the opposing team fell for my ploy perfectly, grabbing my shorts instead of the flag, as I sneaked into their territory.  If I had pulled that sort of prank the last time we played this game (20+ years ago) people would have thought I was insane.  Nowadays it's hardly breaking news that I'm running around on a field nearly naked.  It would have been more surprising if such a thing hadn't happened.

Coming Soon:  Part II -- Water Parks