Today I was pleased to find that a set of sleds had been gifted to me. They had an immaculate package, and their length was surprising. They seemed a bit flimsy at first, but I suspected that, through use, they’d firm up in no time. It was hard to take my eyes off them, as I couldn’t stop imagining what sorts of things I could plow through or slip under.
Sorry, I’m getting ahead of myself. You too should get to experience the momentary joy that these colorful members had to offer. I’ll wet your whistle with the following:
Sounds awesome, right? Like the coolest thing ever, right? My mouth was watering with anticipation at this point, contemplating the majesty of what I was about to behold. I couldn’t wait to set my butt down on one of these, feeling the smooth caress of the plastic as it found a groove through the snow-filled hills and valleys.
Then I took a look at the actual sled.
Oh… oh, oh dear. As I pondered just how apt the “easily carried and stored” part of the marketing was and wondered what opportune words might rhyme with “cleanness”, a thought rose up to meet me. I pondered just how important shapes are in manufacturing, and realized that, despite the best intentions, sometimes you’ve just got to take a step back and think about precisely what you’ve created.
I don’t plan to ever use these sleds. Probably. My mind’s too infantile to allow me, but with company around, it may decide “Hey, wouldn’t it be funny if?”. I’ll keep you updated if these are ever used in a “group outing”, as it were.
Then again, maybe the construction just makes the sled aerodynamic….as long as the rider doesn’t Freudian slip off of it.
Let Shapely Sleds Die
Photo Credits: Taken by the author, unfortunately.