After three decades of being married to the same woman, you would think a guy would have a pretty solid knowledge of that woman\u2019s likes and dislikes. But on Mother\u2019s Day, five years ago, I had an apparent brain cramp.<\/p>\n
That was when I thought surprising my wife with a sunset balloon flight would be the perfect Mother\u2019s Day gift. It turned out to be about as perfect as buying a rack of beef for a vegan.<\/p>\n
Ever since I saw the climax of the \u201cWizard of Oz\u201d \u2013 as the Wizard lifts off in a big hot-air balloon \u2013 I wanted to try it, too. However, the movie didn\u2019t explain whatever became of the Wizard after he drifted away. Some believe that when he landed, he changed his name to Dick Cheney and moved to Washington, D.C., the nation\u2019s largest repository of hot air. Once there, he simply went back to being that man behind the curtain.<\/p>\n
If the Wright brothers hadn\u2019t invented the airplane, we might have the Montgolier brothers to thank for our everyday air transportation. They\u2019re the guys who, around 1783 or so, invented the hot-air balloon.<\/p>\n
Of course, things would be a lot different if today\u2019s airports featured balloon travel instead of jet planes. A flight from Seattle to Chicago might take several weeks, so at least a couple changes of underwear would be a must. Safety regulations on a balloon would prohibit carrying aboard pet porcupines, hedgehogs or horned toads. Texas Longhorn cattle wouldn\u2019t be welcome, either, and neither would folks with spiked hair, beard stubble or pointy noses. The goal would be to try and get as near to Chicago as possible, because hot air balloons are not easy to steer. You might wind up in a cornfield in Peoria. Then you\u2019d have to take a commuter balloon the rest of the way to Chicago. Walking to Chicago might be a quicker alternative.<\/p>\n
No doubt about it, balloon travel wouldn\u2019t be practical for long-distance travel \u2013 and watching the same in-flight movie over and over would get real boring. But there is a charming, even mystical, quality to drifting aloft in a big balloon. And I felt certain that my wife would think so, too.<\/p>\n
The kids and I spent that Mother\u2019s Day making her guess what the surprise would be.<\/p>\n
\u201cRiver-rafting?\u201d Nope.<\/p>\n
\u201cA concert?\u201d Nix.<\/p>\n
\u201cBowling?\u201d No, but what an excellent idea for next year.<\/p>\n
The year before, for my wife\u2019s birthday, I\u2019d given her a \u201cDay of Beauty\u201d at a local spa. \u201cA Day of Beauty\u201d for a woman is like a \u201cDay of Football\u201d for a guy \u2013 and sure enough, the spa visit was a big hit with my wife.<\/p>\n
When we were first married, with little income, I had given her only \u201cHalf-A-Day of Beauty.\u201d She received half a facial (she chose the left side, I believe) and a pedicure for the five toes of her choosing.<\/p>\n
So that\u2019s why I thought a hot-air balloon ride would smash all records for Mother\u2019s Day gift-giving. It was thoughtful, spendy and unexpected. And so, when we hopped in the car that day heading for our surprise destination, I was startled when she suddenly said, \u201cBy the way, you do remember that I\u2019m mortally afraid of heights?\u201d<\/p>\n
Somehow, after all our years of marriage, I had forgotten that \u2013 and when we pulled into the parking lot of the balloon-ride place, my wife\u2019s face took on the hue of Casper the Ghost.<\/p>\n
Yet, amazingly, she went along with it. I think she didn\u2019t want to disappoint the family. I watched her face as we all climbed into the big wicker basket that the balloon was attached to. They say that when some prisoners are being led off to the gas chamber, they either start yelling and screaming or get real quiet. My wife got real quiet.<\/p>\n
As we began to ascend, the wicker basket we were in began to look about the size of an ashtray. My wife\u2019s hands clutched the railing with a grip that could have cut wire. That\u2019s when the pilot said those reassuring words: \u201cOur goal is to wind up as near to were we started as possible. But then again, we never know for sure.\u201d Even the kids looked stricken.<\/p>\n
We floated up a mile high. That was approximately 5,279 feet higher than my wife was hoping for. Not that she noticed, with her eyes closed tight. She also didn\u2019t notice that my knees were shaking like a pair of castanets.<\/p>\n
Whisked northwardly by capricious winds, we soared above it all: Lakes, trees, mountains, junkyards, gravel pits, adult bookstores. A couple of birds floated far below us. Even they were afraid to go so high.<\/p>\n
Finally, we started down. We missed our planned landing spot by no more than three miles \u2013 pretty much a bulls-eye in the ballooning business. For several minutes, it looked like we\u2019d be touching down into the bubbling, malodorous waters of a sewage treatment plant. I wished I\u2019d remembered to bring swimsuits for everybody.<\/p>\n
But as it turned out, we landed harmlessly on the grounds of a cemetery. My wife said, \u201cI knew we were going to wind up here one way or the other.\u201d<\/p>\n
During our drive home, she was deep in whispered conversation with our kids. I finally asked her, \u201cAre you all thinking about the balloon ride?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo,\u201d she replied with a cold look in her eye. \u201cWe were just planning your Father\u2019s Day surprise.\u201d<\/p>\n
Pat Cashman is a writer, actor and public speaker. He can be reached at pat@patcashman.com<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
After three decades of being married to the same woman, you would think a guy would have a pretty solid knowledge of that woman\u2019s likes and dislikes. But on Mother\u2019s Day, five years ago, I had an apparent brain cramp.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":214,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[8],"tags":[],"yst_prominent_words":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.kentreporter.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/15720"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.kentreporter.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.kentreporter.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.kentreporter.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/214"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.kentreporter.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=15720"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.kentreporter.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/15720\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.kentreporter.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=15720"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.kentreporter.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=15720"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.kentreporter.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=15720"},{"taxonomy":"yst_prominent_words","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.kentreporter.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/yst_prominent_words?post=15720"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}