I just don’t get it. How did a man board a ski lift in Vail with the innocent intention of skiing with his child and end up hanging from the lift for a solid fifteen minutes, upside down and pantless? No, not panting, I said pantless. Pant-free. Sans pantalons. As in, fully exposed. Frostbite in unusual places.

There’s a long (boring) explanation offered here as to how this could have happened (along with photos much too graphic even for this racy blog) but it’s confusing and unconvincing. The truth, I suspect, is that something that could not happen simply did happen to poor Peter Pants-off. It’d be like having a meteor fall on your head, but much less likely. In fact, if it’s any consolation to poor Robert Redbottom, this event is historically unique.

Now I have a whole new reason to avoid downhill skiing, aside from the daunting prospect of finding a ski outfit that doesn’t make me look like a horse’s ass, and the weepy panic attacks on the bunny slopes. As long as there’s a possibility, no matter how remote, that I could end up dangling pantless from a lift, my skis will remain in the closet.