(99-97) Red Luftballoons

Some would find it pretty awesome that I have a window office. However, I have to say, it’s pretty overrated. I must be going on 3 years or so with a workspace that is bordered on one side by freedom, but you rarely find yourself staring out into the yonder. For one, the window is 180 degrees from my computer monitor. For me to check the weather for myself, I’d have to swivel in the completely opposite direction. Enough swiveling and my chair is likely to unhinge itself into two parts, leaving me sitting on the ground with a sore back and no meteorological knowledge whatsoever.

This is why God made Weather.com.

The other reason I don’t find myself spending hours gazing outside is that my view isn’t that great. Now I understand that Tyson’s Corner is a Corner full of other office buildings, and the likelihood is pretty high that I’m going to look out at some doofus in another company who spends his break time starting right back at me. I could only be so lucky. No, I’m on the 2nd floor (of 9) in my building, which means I’m at least fortunate enough to not stare at the traffic or the parking lot. Whew. Instead, however, I have the roof of the building’s cafeteria in my sights.

Man, that is one sweet air handling unit I’ve got to look at. Awesome.

Yep, I’ve got an obstructed view. It’s like sitting on the inside seat of the Metro. You can look at the Monuments as you cross the bridge into DC, but you have a stranger’s head obstructing the view. And judging from the size of this air handling unit, I’m sitting next to a stranger with a head as big as mine.

But finally, there’s a change to the skyline.

Sitting atop the large metal curved roof, as of this morning, is a deflated silver helium balloon. (Granted, there’s no helium in it now – if there was, it wouldn’t be resting placidly on the roof.) I can’t make out the full greeting, but it appears to say “Congratulations, Man!” on it. Granted, all I can actually see is Congr- and Ma, so it could be a balloon celebrating Congruent Madmen. Which seems odd, I suppose, but be honest with yourself. Aren’t madmen that are incongruous even more terrifying?

Question: Where did this balloon come from?
Answer: The sky, probably.

Thanks a lot, jerkpants of an inner monologue.

Of course, this isn’t the first time I’ve encountered a balloon from the heavens. When I was like 5, my family was visiting my grandparents in Pennsylvania. They lived in a wide-open subdivision, with each household having enough land that they all required riding lawnmowers to keep the grasslands at bay. Anyway, while everyone was inside near sunset, I continued to play outside. The game? Throw the ball up in the air and then catch it. So as my gaze was frequently skyward, I saw a hot-air balloon on the horizon. It started small, and increased in size. As it got so big that I could see the people in its basket, I ran inside to proclaim my fantastic discovery.

No one believes the bored kid with the tennis ball.

As I went back outside, I was just in time to see the balloon narrowly miss (ok, 20 feet) the roof of the house and land in the front yard of my grandparents house. Soon thereafter, the house emptied to join me in my revelry. In addition, several vehicles pulled up to pack up the balloon and celebrate the voyage with the airborne ones. A man emerged from the balloon basket with bottles of champagne and plastic drinkware.

And from that day forward, I’ve assumed that all champagne is distributed by God via hot-air balloons.