A Man with Balloons
I’ve got a slight problem. Typically I like to start out these rants, screeds or tirades (whatever you want to call these pieces) with some sort of anecdote, joke or gag…but this time I’ve got nothing. [crickets]
Since the title of this piece refers to “A Man with Balloons” I kicked around the idea of opening with a bunch of balloon related puns; but then I began to worry about letting the air out of the room and being left with an audience that was deflated. [weak rim shot]
Then I thought about opening this piece with some sort of teaser regarding my title character (a man with balloons); but I didn’t want to blow up the story prematurely by having balloon-man pop out too soon. [double rim shot/pause for nonexistent laughter/clear throat/microphone feedback/sheepish grin/deep breath]
So, instead of opening with some sort of “exciting” balloon related nonsense, I’ve decided to take the exact opposite approach. I’ve decided to open up with something that is delightfully boring: bread.
I know, somebody who thinks they can grab peoples’ attention with “bread” is probably a little crusty [rim shot] but no matter how you SLICE it I have a WRY sense of humor, [double rim shot] so here we are.
Even though bread just loafs around [weak rim shot] it’s one of the most basic provisions we have. One might even say bread is NEEDED.
Look, I’m not forcing you to read this stuff! Okay?
For those of you who haven’t walked out yet, I would like to note that bread-on-the-table does indeed seem simple enough. However, short of having the dough [rim shot] to spend on one of those handy-dandy bread making machines, making bread from scratch is an insanely complicated process. How anyone ever managed to stumble upon, invent or otherwise create bread is, in a word: beyond me…wait a minute. I think that’s two words. Oh well. One way or the other, ancient human creativity found a way to give us bread. And then, AND THEN! If “bread” wasn’t mind-boggling enough, human creativity gave us the next greatest thing: SLICED bread!
Look, if you’re not as impressed with this as much as I am, just be thankful I didn’t open up this piece with a hypothetical dialogue regarding the discovery, invention or creation of paper.
Cleatus: Hey Jim-Bob, look at that there tree out yonder.
Jim-Bob: Yup. She’s a big-un. [scratch/scratch/scratch]
Cleatus pauses for a moment to stuff a wad of chewing tobacco in his mouth before continuing.
Cleatus: Let’s see what happens if we cut ‘er down, [chew/chew/chew] grind ‘er up, [chew/chew/chew] add some water, [chew/chew/chew] then lay ‘er out flat to dry. [spit!]
Jim-Bob: Do you reckon I’lls be able to use whatever we ends up with to writes me a love letter to Lurlene? [scratch/scratch/scratch]
Cleatus: Can’t hardly reckon why not. [chew/chew/chew] But first, yous gonna needs to invent yourself a pen too! [spit!]
I’m pretty sure paper was created in China, so I’m not really sure why the modest cast in my little cutaway scene sounded like they were from West Virginia. I guess it doesn't matter. I didn’t open with “West-Virginians-invent-paper” so we don’t need to worry about that. [shoulder shrug]
Oh well, regardless of how and why my piece may or may not have opened, it’s sufficient to say this: between bread, paper and men with balloons, I’ve always been intrigued by human creativity.
Human creativity has given us everything from the ant farm to the accordion. Incidentally, the inventor of the accordion and I have something in common: we both deserve to have been sent to prison. I don’t know if the inventor of the accordion ever actually did time, but he should have. When I came to prison, my intrigue with human creativity was exponentially increased. Hopefully if the inventor of the accordion went to prison he got shanked…but now I’m getting off track.
You’ve probably heard the old adage that states: necessity is the mother of invention. Well, prison is a place where you certainly have an abundance of necessity. Prison is ALSO a place where you have an abundance of time! As a result, for better or for worse (mostly worse) prison is a place that will get the creative juices flowing. Inmates will create whatever they can with whatever spare parts happen to be lying around. If those spare parts happen to be nailed down, inmates will simply create a way to pry them loose. Inmates will create cheese graters out of cleanser bottles and prison shanks out of plumbing parts. Inmates will make impromptu cigarette lighters out of bundles of batteries and substitute weight sets out of bags filled with water. Inmates will use dismantled locker shelves and candles stolen out of the chapel to create flattop cooking ranges. Inmates will use hair clipper motors, sewing needles and calligraphy ink to create “THE PRISON TATTOO.” In prison, trash cans become deep fryers, clothing irons become George Forman grills, nail clippers become screwdrivers and combination locks become hammers. The number of creative uses prison inmates have found for toothpaste is, frankly, kind of spooky.
Prison food creations are another intriguing sight to behold (or taste to be eaten as the case may be). Jailhouse burritos, prison cheesecake and mystery ramen bowls are created from anything that is reasonably edible and hasn’t gone completely bad. Prison pizzas are made from anything and everything that can be smuggled out of the prison kitchen. Locker casserole is another intriguing prison medley. If you happen to be wondering, the secret ingredient in locker casserole is [loud whisper] more ingredients!
Prison booze, bathroom brew or toilet hooch (whatever you want to call it) is yet another intriguing (albeit unauthorized) prison creation. Rotten fruit, cream cookie filling and soda are stuffed into the legs of institutionally issued pant legs. These “mash bags” are then stashed under bunks, behind radiators or in air ducts to allow for fermentation. When the fruit fly population has become unmanageable this means it’s time to “cook the wine.” Prison stills are made out of mop buckets, trash bags and spray bottles. The whole mess is boiled with something called “THE PRISON STINGER” [cue ominous music]. The prison stinger is, in-and-of-itself, ANOTHER intriguing prison creation. The prison stinger is a heating element that’s been made of parts which have been ripped out of anything from floor buffers to fluorescent light fixtures. As a result, the prison stinger looks like a cross between a piece of surrealist junkyard art and a medieval torture device.
At any rate, when the still is set up and the stinger is plugged in, the bathroom becomes occupied; alcohol is distilled and voila: wasted inmates.
How anyone ever managed to stumble upon, invent or create hooch (toilet or otherwise) is beyond me. I can sum up the whole process in two words: un believable. Wait a second. I think that’s supposed to be one word. Oh well, you get the idea.
Fortunately, human creativity isn’t limited to the prison environment. ALSO fortunately: human creativity isn’t limited by age or cognitive ability either. In fact, for better or for worse (mostly worse) LACK of age AND lack of cognitive ability can actually fan the flames of creativity.
When I was eight years old I dreamed of creating the flying bicycle. I even drew up some plans for my flying bicycle using some crayons, construction paper and an Etch-A-Sketch. The gears of my ten-speed were somehow going to power twin turbo props (made of ceiling fans). Realistically though, in order to get my creation airborne I was going to have to reduce weight by casting off my helmet, reflectors and that stupid little bell. Never being one to let a planning process get in the way of production; I told myself I was just going to have to figure out how to steer my contraption “on the fly” [rim shot].
It didn’t take too long to discover that the biggest enemy of creativity is reality…[loud whisper] and sometimes gravity.
While my fellow humans managed to successfully create everything from the Ginzu knife to the Glockenspiel, it probably goes without saying that my flying bicycle never made it into the air. Much to the chagrin of my parents, the only things I ever managed to create as a kid were a pile of holes and a whole lot of piles. As I grew up nothing really changed…much to the chagrin of everybody else. The only things I ever managed to create as an adult were a bunch of problems, a number of awkward situations and something known as the hot mess.
(Sigh)
I’d like to step away from the realm of HUMAN creativity for a moment so I can submit a proposal: The “all-time-greatest-creation…ever” is: [drum roll] THE DUCK.
Think about it. God has managed to create a contraption that can not only walk, swim and fly…but it can also quack! Furthermore, since God created creation out of nothing,¹ we know that God did not create THE DUCK out of spare parts that happened to be lying around. Oh sure, God may have created the platypus out of spare parts that just happened to be laying around, but I’m pretty sure He did that just to show off. [shoulder shrug] At any rate, all of this is to say, compared to God’s perfection, human creativity can be accurately described with one word: imperfect. Hey! I got it right that time! [fist pump]
Sometimes imperfect human creations are created for good reasons; sometimes imperfect human creations are created for bad reasons…and sometimes imperfect human creations are created for bizarre reasons that result in, well, bizarre imperfect creations.
Enter: Larry Walters.
Larry Walters was an otherwise nondescript 33-year-old man living in San Pedro California when the curtain rose on his 45 (nee 15) minutes of fame. On July 2, 1982, Larry Walters, our not-quite-hero, discovered that he himself had some spare parts laying around. It will become evident in a few moments that Larry Walters ALSO had some spare time on his hands. Unfortunately, (or FORTUNATELY depending on your point of view) some of the spare stuff Larry had on hand that fateful day included 45 weather balloons, multiple canisters of helium and a lawn chair.
This is the point in the story where I say: DON’T GET AHEAD OF ME! However, since our human brains are indeed creative, you’ve probably already put those pieces together.
That being the case, it’s sufficient to say that Larry Walters was airborne for about 45 minutes.
Beyond that, it’s noteworthy that Larry Walters did not spend those 45 minutes hovering about near the roof of his home (or TRAILER as the case may have been). No, Larry Walters and his helium-balloon-lawn-chair-creation rose to an altitude of about 16,000 feet. That was just about high enough to grab an in-flight meal and order something from Sky-Mall.
Of course we don’t know how much creative energy Larry may (or may not) have put into his helium-balloon-lawn-chair-creation. We will also never know exactly what Larry had planned on happening once he was airborne. Perhaps he was going to figure that out “on the fly” [rim shot]. Oh wait, I already used that joke. Dang! Never mind.
In a general sense though, it can certainly be said that Larry Walters had cut himself from the anchor of gravity and, quite literally cast himself to the breeze. With that, Larry Walters had abandoned himself to a stretch of aimless drifting.
Look, I’m not judging Larry, mostly because I’m not supposed to. But also, because it’s somewhat difficult for me to say if Larry Walters helium-balloon-lawn-chair-creation was a boon or a bust. I certainly won’t categorize Larry Walters imperfect endeavor as an overwhelming noble success, but I’m not prepared to call it an abysmal moral failure either. I would like to submit that we simply call Larry Walter’s airborne escapade a “misadventure” of sorts. I would also like to submit that I think there’s a lesson to be learned from Larry Walters and his stratospheric hijinks.
Somewhere in the middle of Larry Walters’ 45 minute “flight” he floated toward the Long Beach California airport. This is when Larry was sadly (or laughably) spotted on radar as he drifted into controlled airspace.
Now what?
Well, this is when Larry Walters becomes an illustration of an undeniable time-tested concept: what goes up, must come down. Sure enough, that’s exactly what happened. The fact that Larry Walters and his helium-balloon-lawn-chair-creation became entangled in power lines during the inevitable descent is just a tad too ironic if you ask me.
Nevertheless, the Long Beach California police department had the honor of arresting Larry Walters upon his unceremonious landfall. Interestingly, police officers didn’t quite know what to do with old Larry. A safety inspector named Neal Savoy was reported to have said, “We know [Mr. Walters] broke some part of the Federal Aviation Act and as soon as we decide which part it is, some type of charge will be filed…”
License revocation is a typical punishment for pilots who have gone rogue, however, that option was off the table. Larry Walters, while indeed rogue, was never an actual pilot so he didn’t have a license to revoke!
At one point Larry Walters was charged with, “operating a civil aircraft for which there is not currently in effect an airworthiness certificate.”
Unfortunately for Larry Walters, F.A.A. code books do indeed get that specific. Fortunately for Larry though that charge had to be dropped. Apparently “helium-balloon-lawn-chair-creation” does not meet the technical definition of “civil aircraft.”
Ultimately, Larry Walters was fined $1500 for some arcane violation having to do with not maintaining two-way communication with a control tower.
Boooooor-iiiiiing. (sigh)
Larry Walters is no longer around to talk about his little airborne-lawn-chair-caper, however, I’m guessing it’s safe to say that an aimless drift at 16,000 feet into controlled airspace was probably farther than Larry wanted to be carried; 45 minutes of being cast to the breeze was probably longer than he wanted to stay, and a $1500 fine was probably more than Larry Walters wanted to pay.
And so it is with sin.
Sin will carry us farther than we want to go, it will hold us for longer than we want to stay, and it will cost us more than we want to pay.³
That’s rough…but it gets rougher. This somewhat foreboding note of doom-and-gloom has left me with another slight problem! How do I end this piece? It seems to me that a story where the focal point is “a man with balloons” should end on a slightly lighter note.
I thought about ending this piece by trying to point out that devices of our own creation and unchecked human ideas can easily balloon out of control and then go over like a lead balloon…but I figured everyone had suffered through enough cringeworthy puns already. It also appears that my rim shot guy has left early, perhaps he wanted to beat traffic? [shoulder shrug]
Well, anyway, rather than closing with some “exciting” balloon related nonsense, I’ve decided to take the EXACT opposite approach and close this piece the EXACT same way I opened it up…with something delightfully boring. Don’t worry though, it’s not quite as boring as bread or paper. [eye roll] No, I’ve decided to close this piece by sharing a little nugget of delightfully boring wisdom instead:
Let your creativity soar, but be sure to keep yourself anchored to the author of creation;⁴ that way you will never find yourself cast to the breeze or abandoned to a life of aimless drifting.⁵
¹ GEN 1:1
² MT 7:1
³ I stole this line from Charles Stanley or Chuck Swindoll or somebody
⁴ Acts 3:15
⁵ PRO 19:21/1 COR 9:25–26
