Last year I gave my father a birthday gift of a hot air balloon ride since it was something he had been wanting to try for awhile. He’s flown in fighter jets, a glider, and sailed the seven seas, but has never sailed through the skies with hot air. Well, not in a balloon at least.
I, however, am not quite the daredevil Dad can be. The notion of a ride in a hot air balloon has a primal romanticism to it, so on that level it has a certain appeal, but bouncing along with the whim of the wind gives me the willies. You never know if you’ll wind up unexpectedly in Oz where you’ll live half your life. I’d rather sprawl out in the shade with a cold lemonade.
That being said, I felt inspired last night to do this sketch. When seated safely at my desk, I don’t mind reaching down to touch the treetops.
Dad is supposed to take his balloon trip soon. He did try it once, but due to winds it was cancelled. I think his is supposed to go a little higher than mine purely for safety reasons. We shall see…