As the parade to Beer Bike 1992 devolved into a water balloon melee, I picked up a pink water balloon and flung it in the general direction of a group of Sidizens who had been pelting me and my fellow Wiessmen with them. As I did so, I felt my Rice ring slip from my finger. A moment later, in the distance, I heard the metallic ping as my ring fell to the pavement. “My ring! My ring came off!” I don’t know how I was heard over the din of laughter and yelling, but in a few moments, Rice students from three or four colleges paused their good-natured rivalry and helped me recover it, only a little worse for wear. I wore that slightly dented ring up until replacing it for my 25th reunion a few years ago.