Pickle

a.k.a. Run the Bases
a.k.a. Hotbox
a.k.a. We're lucky no one got conked in the head with a ball.

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I swear we flew kites too, but only for a little bit. The wind was uncooperative.
To make up for it, Karl and Janeanne, and Nichol and Jeremy made separate trips to Prospect Park today where some major winds demolished Janeanne's 101 Dalmations kite, Nichol's little airfoil got tree'd (RIT), and Jeremy spied a Baby Bat in the treetops, possibly one of our lost brethren (RIT).

ps- If you guys have pictures, put some up.

So anyway, after Pickle, we stopped by Carriage Inn for some EPH, where some weirdo was whispering clues into the ears of Karl and Jeremy ("bosom," "derriere," "obvious"). Then we went to Karls for mint juleps and the Kentucky Derby. The Derby was pretty badass, the mint juleps were a bit much for me. I can't drink whiskey.

The first rule of Kite Club...

The first rule of Kite Club is...you tell everyone you know about Kite Club. Jeremy's roomate Lawrence became the newest member of the Brooklyn Flyers when he launched the Robot War Gayla yesterday. Congratulations to all of us.

Yesterday, Jeremy took a day off from teaching kids about science and we spent 7 and a half hours in Prospect Park, teaching ourselves a few things about a few things other than science. For instance, nerf footballs totally fly.
We also began honing our kite-fighting skills. Jeremy definitely dominated in this arena, and my brand new Gayla Trendsetter left the park with more than one strip of packing tape holding it together. Karl and Kyle came by after their respective days of work and we had a serious kite-fight followed by some serious knots. We decided to (literally) cut our losses.

Ye Olde Carriage Inn was crowded, and the MegaTouch was occupied, so we moved on to Karl's and drank our Guinness while we watched the History of Baseball. It went a little something like this:

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