Up, up and away

Every August I think the same thing: How do balloon enthusiasts (balloonthusiasts?) deal with the heartbreakingly unstable Maine weather year-after-year without sobbing balloon-shaped tears into their burners? Each summer they come here and promptly get grounded due to wind, rain, lightning and, in the case of the 2004 tragedy, termites. But each summer, you see the hot air people smiling and waving (“Good morning, balloon people!”) and generally having a good time in spite of the current plague. They wait out the rain, wind and termites and, by God, they get their baskets off the ground. And so I’ve come to suspect an unsavory thing and I’m just putting it out there: Is steroid use rampant within the ballooning profession?

Jolted

Frankly, I don’t get it. We put out a query looking for people who have experienced frightening brushes with lightning and only a handful responded. This from a pool of people who see man-eating creatures in their backyards and alien motherships over their homes as least twice weekly. Hell, I’ve always suspected most of you had been whacked by lightning several times during your formative years. Right in the tinfoil-wrapped heads, too.

Well, I still need to hear from people who rode the lightning and survived (I’ll also take calls from those who didn’t survive, but please don’t call collect) and the sooner the better. If you personally have no experience with lightning can you please ask your sister? I figure she must have taken a hit or two. How else did she get so hot?

Oh, zap! 

Billy Wagner

I’m sure he’ll be a great addition to the Red Sox bullpen and all, but that guy’s name just sounds dirty. 

Back to school

In my day, we went back to the classroom a week or even two into September. Now the kids are ordered back to their desks during the best beach days of summer. When I think about this commitment to education, I get philosophical about today’s students. Foremost: Ha ha, suckers! Glad I’m not you! 

My apologies…

… to John Brooks, Auburn man who was reading my Wednesday “Street Talk” column when a car slammed into his apartment building. It was a horrible column, I know, and may have somehow contributed to the wreck. I’ll try to do better in the future.

In the zone

The scene on Turner Street in Auburn Wednesday was chaos. A pole had been knocked over and hung over the street by one thin wire. The front end of a car was inside a building and the driver was being … let’s just say, questioned. Cops were everywhere. Firemen were everywhere and emergency lights blazed. And through it all came a sweaty man in a sleeveless T-shirt jogging to the sounds of his favorite iPod tunes. He jogged past the back of the wrecked car, trotted gingerly over the spilled fluids, and weaved his way through a clot of firefighters standing in the street. His commitment to fitness was praised by all. At least I’m pretty sure that’s what the cop yelled to him from the curb.

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