Saturday, April 2, 2022

Up, up, and argh!

A friend of mine lives in a condo complex near a big field where they occasionally host balloon festivals. Not the kind of balloon you tie to a kid's wrist, or the kind you bend into weird animal shapes, but the big hot-air kind that send you up in the sky in a little basket. 

I don't know that my friend has ever attended the festival, but he hasn't had to, since a couple of times the festival has attended him. Balloon landings in the street, in the backyard, in the development’s common areas -- and since these festivals start early in the morning on weekends, that can be quite a sight to wake up to.



When I was a kid I very much wanted to go for a ride in one of those balloons. Since my childhood I have learned a crucial fact about myself -- I am terrified of heights. I knew an ironworker who used to work on the antenna atop the Empire State Building, and just thinking of that makes me want to grab hold of something. If I'd gone to a festival with my folks as a kid with the plan to ride in a balloon gondola, I guarantee I would have chickened out.

🐔 young Fred

And, now that I know they often come back down in unplanned places, I don't think I am more likely to go up in one.

I guess my question to you is: Ever got up in a hot-air balloon? Was it scary, wonderful, both, neither? What's your balloon story?

5 comments:

peacelovewoodstock said...

When I was about 7, my family lived in Villefranche, France. My dad was a consultant working for the Navy. The USO put on movies in a little town hall down the corniche in Nice, projected on a cracked wall. It was magic.

One film we saw was a classic French short, "The Red Balloon". https://youtu.be/VexKSRKoWQY

I started to hotly covet a helium balloon but they were a rare commodity in the early 60s, particularly in France.

I was ten or twelve before I first acquired an actual helium balloon, probably at the local Woolworths. I had a lot of fun with it indoors, I recall tying a piece of cardboard to the end of the string, and then cutting off little pieces of the cardboard to see if I could get the balloon to hover in mid air.

I let it rest against the ceiling of my bedroom when I went to sleep, as the string was long enough for me to grab it back down.

When I awoke, I was horrified to discover that my balloon had lost its lift ... it was on the floor, looking just a bit deflated and limp. Somehow enough helium had leaked that it had no lift, but enough remained to keep it balloon-shaped. I learned a few lessons from that, some scientific, some economic.

As for hot air balloons, no thank you, the vertigo runs strong in this one.

As a teenager, we constructed hot air balloons from strips of balsa wood, birthday candles, and empty dry cleaning bags, but that is another story.

Robert said...

Never been in one, never had any desire to do so.

rbj

FredKey said...

Alas, poor helium balloon! Well, Woodstock, harsher lessons are learned with those things. I remember being over at the home of friends of the family when the younger girl, maybe six, let her helium balloon go in the same area of dad's office. Unfortunately the ceiling was covered in sand paint, which popped that sucker faster than any cat could. Tears ensued.

Mongo919 said...

We were in a hot air balloon for an hour in Kenya, watching the wildebeest migrate. It was an unbelievable experience. The exclamation point was landing next to an enormous brunch setup with endless food, champagne, and bloody Marys. I'd do it again in a hartebeest. 😁

FredKey said...

Mongo, you are an international man of mystery.