Air Apparent

Let's get one thing perfectly clear. I want to squash any rumours right now. I'll scuttle any scuttlebutt. Nip it in the bud or bud it in the nip as soon as possible.

The fact that I returned from vacation this past week just in time for Lewiston-Auburn's Hot Air Balloon Festival is a mere coincidence.

No, the Balloon Festival does not need me here. It has all the hot air it needs. I am not on stand-by just in case there's a hot air shortage. I was not summoned back from vacation because of a hot air emergency.

Yes, I am often told I'm "full of it" and hot air could very well be the "it" to which people refer, but that remains unsubstantiated. My hot airness and that of the balloon festival remains completely separate entities, for now and forever. Now, if it was called Squiggy's Hot Air Balloon Festival, that would be different.

Most would know that such a festival wouldn't interest me in the least. I discovered yesterday that the Balloon Festival has filled LA's skies for 16 years. And, yes, it is a coincidence that the festival began a year after I arrived here.

I'm still trying to figure out what LA and hot air balloons have in common that people would hold a festival. And, no, that commonality is not me!

Other than seeing the balloons in the sky, I've hardly paid attention to the Balloon Festival over the years. Sometimes I've been out of town, but most years, I've returned from vacation the week prior, just like this year - and keep your comments to yourself!

I've never been to the main grounds of the festival. Never even seen them. I'm not exactly sure where they are, but I have an idea where its located - and avoid it like the plague.

Festivals have many of the things I don't like - crowds being atop the list. Making it worse, much of that crowd could be tourists - even though, if I were from away, I wouldn't plan my vacation around being in LA for the Balloon Festival.

I don't do the arcade thing any anymore. Carnival rides lost my interest decades ago. So, I've never really found a reason to attend a balloon festival. Now that I realize that I've gone 16 years without giving the festival any notice, I don't expect that to change. It's just like I've never watched an episode of American Idol or Dancing with the (People that may or may not be) stars or don't have an ATM card or cell phone. I likely be sure to maintain those streaks. I'm stubborn like that.

Now, I'm not exactly opposed to festivals. I've always wanted to go to the Newport Folk Festival. There's always some pretty good artists and bands playing. I'm just opposed to driving all the way to Newport - oh, and the crowd thing again.

I do go to the Lobster Festival in Rockland every year. I've been every year for as long as I can remember, and I'm still trying to figure out why. Typically, I go on the Community Day, when I'm not charged $10 to set foot in a parking lot I usually access for free. I spend my 45 minutes to an hour looking things over. I'll buy my annual piece of fried dough - unless I splurge and go for the Thai food - yes, Oriental chow at the Lobster Festival. I told you I like to buck trends.

Then, as I leave, I wonder why I bother every year. I don't like the crowds (I still recall the year I attended in a wheelchair following a knee injury - I shudder at the memory. I don't care about the rides. I'm not going to drop any coin on the cheap carnival crap they sell to suckers. I do like to peruse the artist tents. This year's collection was pretty decent. Best of all, I didn't spend a cent on any art. One thing I've found about art is that it's fun to look at and fun to look for something you really like, but if you find something you must have, it's going to cost you. I've got $600 worth of art on my wall as a result - and those two pieces were to squelch the urge I had to buy a larger piece for $800 on its own. (I actually inquired about purchasing that piece later only to learn it was sold, whew, that was close).

Anyway, Maine is full of festival's, but most of them I ignore. I did attend the slightly obscure Lack of Love Shack Festival one year. In fact, if I'm not mistaken, I was a bit of a co-founder of that event. (If it's something stupid, bizarre or mischievous - and fun - there's a likelihood that it was partially my idea.)
The Lack of Love Shack Festival was a simple affair, tucked away at the end of a street in a small town in Maine. The Lack of Love Shack is actually a camper, but that's all I can reveal. You probably don't want any further details. There were no rides, no crowds. There wasn't even fried dough. But, there was food and some brews. We listened to the Red Sox lose, received consultation from Dr. McGillicuddy and gathered round a bonfire. There was even a guy named Ringo there. Ethel was crowned the Queen of the Lack of Love Shack Festival and a good time was had by all.

There's been talk about having a Squiggy Festival, but frankly, isn't every day a Squiggy Festival?

Of course, if a festival were named for me, it would have all the things I'd want. So, there'd be no rides, no crowds, there'd be fried dough, some good tunes, maybe a libation or two - oh, and plenty of hot air.