Possibly the hardest part of this stage of the pregnancy is the inability to do much except sit around and wait. Going out to dinner is nice, but no travel (so no DC United playoff game in New York), and Kathy's not up for much activity. And we shouldn't venture too far, because Kathy could go into labor. That's why I was delighted when in the early hours of yesterday morning I stumbled across something that looked fun to do -- Flugtag, i.e., Flying Day, an event created by the makers of Red Bull, in keeping with their slogan "Red Bull gives you wings." Neither of us had heard of Flugtag, but it turned out to be a perfect day to soak up the sun and observe some crazy contraptions up in Baltimore. That being said, it wasn't until we got there that we learned that most participants are more concerned with style points rather than actual distance traveled. Consequently, most of the entries dropped right into the water as soon as they traveled the distance of the "runway."
The beehive 'do is perfect for an event taking place in John Waters' hometown, right hon?
It was a one-eyed, one-horn, flying purple people eater. Or something like that.
A couple had trouble making it even that far:
Back Back Back Back Back
Leading off with a rap and cranking P-Funk during the skit was cool.
Falling apart before getting within 20 feet of the edge of the runway wasn't so cool.
Still, one of the entrants did in fact set the record for furthest distance traveled during an American flugtag (81 feet), and the other involved a very large paper airplane.
Depending on which time it was announced, this was either the world's largest paper airplane, or the world's largest manned paper airplane (which makes a lot more sense).
The longest distance was covered by a team that had no style, Victims of Soi-cumstance, performing as The Three Stooges:
Their run is part of the videos at the top of the page here.
We stayed through the first 17 entrants (out of 23), enough to get a taste of the event, and enough to believe that we could set the record on our own. So if a giant, yummy-looking bottle of beer someday travels over 100 feet off a barge before falling into some water below, the odds are good that we'll be involved.