You were the albatross on our horizon line, the speck in our eye, the star of our paranoid sci-fi. You brought back to us Hindenburg, Brandenburg Concerto (only because it rhymes), the Red Balloon, the London blitz, and countless disappointing birthdays.
You were our hovering gestalt—about security, no doubt—all retro in your WWI awkwardness, but you were ours, our little NORAD stepchild.
Wait, did we pay for you, our helium delirium? We could almost say ‘we want you back,’ almost. But you fled to PA, all frumpy and decompressed, not your best party dress by far.
And then you were gone. And starlings awoke and spiraled in the air.
We won’t miss you, Blimpster, Sayonara dear weird orb. Please protect us from afar.
Story at Baltimore Sun here.
Gren Whitman says
Consider me weirdly elated as Blimpy is deflated.
Melinda Bookwalter says
James, what a delightful and poetic eulogy! It is now printed and posted by my desk to bring smiles evermore, thank you!
Better than the best line I read on the web: “Ya just can’t control em during mating season”.
Billie Beck says
You may not going to miss the blimp but I will. It use to be the first thing I looked for in the mornings. Granted, I had no idea what it was up there for but I still found it quite interesting. Didn’t look like the blimp I remember from 60 years some years ago!!!
Patricia Deitz says
James’ piece is very clever, but I am one who is already missing the blimp. I loved to see it floating up there like a puffy UFO. And then when there were two, well even better!