Last night, I went on a bike ride with Richard Feynman (1918-1988). This was his first long ride, and like many less experienced riders, he was unprepared and got dehydrated, ultimately running off the edge of a road on a descent. The group retrieved him and his bike, got some fluid into him, and finished the ride. Maybe he was still recovering at the post-ride picnic, but he seemed unable to locate a table with the proper number of free spaces for our part of four (the two of us and two unnamed young females who he said would "be along shortly").

Perhaps I'm being unfair, but I expected more from a legendary iconoclast and one of the greatest minds of the 20th century. Just because you win a Nobel prize for quantum electrodynamics it doesn't mean you get to hang out in the middle of the paceline and never take a pull at the front. And he didn't even thank me for the Camelback that I gave him...