Yes! was my immediate answer-- she'd trumpeted the awesomeness of this outing to me a few times in the past, but I'd never gotten a chance to go. Now was my moment.

The Golden Gavel is an auction house in Connecticut that holds a live auction every Thursday night, from 7 p.m. until everything in the place is gone. The wares range from sets of drinking glasses to full bedroom sets, with everything -- and I mean everything -- in between. The goods come from estates and businesses unloading things, so on any given Thursday, there could be furniture, electronics, clothes, ephemera, or, as there was when I went, a box of dead butterflies and a full Ronald McDonald clown suit. Both of which, might I add, sold.

Erica, her friend Liz and I headed down to the auction after work, and upon arriving, registered and were given bidding numbers. I was 158. We then made a quick stop at the snack bar, a makeshift diner staffed by two Flo n' Alice lookalikes. Erica had a baked potato and a piece of apple crisp; I had a good old-fashioned hot dog. They buttered and grilled the bun. Color me impressed.

After taking our seats, the first of three parts of the auction began. One of three auctioneers took the stage -- I gathered his name was Pat -- and started the bidding as what seemed like a massive staff grabbed items from tables and walls and brought them to the front. We watched the process both on the stage and via one of a row of closed-circuit televisions that zoomed in on each item: a lamp, a neon sign, an ottoman, some Ikea shelving, a Coca-cola sign, a couch, one of seven TVs, mirrors, computer hard drives, WWII memorabilia. The breadth was really amazing, but what was more amazing were the prices some of these finds were going for. I watched in awe as a like-new, teak, four-piece, ceiling-to-floor entertainment center with glass doors went to the highest bidder for $150.

Pat led the auction until the bulk of the merchandise had sold. Then, he turned the gavel over to another auctioneer, Ralph, who kicked things into high gear with that classic 'auctioneer babble' style -- "Five, five and ten, ten, ten hubbada ten, fifteen? huddaba hubbadahubbada SOLD to the lady in black for $20."

Ralph also led the $10 round, which starts the bidding at $10 for every item. Some still go for more, and some less. The $10 round then switched to the $5 round, and finally a third auctioneer, Ron, led 'the walk-around,' during which you can buy a whole table of sundries for $2, and take what you want.

The Golden Gavel does routinely sell high-end items that sometimes go for as much as $10,000, and I heard a few things go for $2,000-plus the other night. But, it's also easy to get a pair of never-worn, $75 shoes for five bucks, LIKE I DID! Woo! They were in fact the first item I tentatively raised my laminated number for, after it seemed clear that no one else in the room wore a seven-and-a-half.

Here's a similar pair:

I also scored these fantastic wood carvings that are perfect in The Orange Livingroom:

and this cool tureen. I needed a serving dish with a cover on it:

Erica got a Bulova clock; neither of us spent more than $40 on the evening, including dinner. And even if I hadn't bought anything, I think the people-watching alone would have made the trip worthwhile. Auctions are definitely a cross-section of humanity.

The verdict? I'm sold. And, I think I want to be an auctioneer when I grow up.

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Have a ball.

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Having worked as a writer or reporter for several years, I do have some photos from my past work that absolutely fit this theme, but many have to do with people's personal triumph or anguish. It only seems right to let those subjects have their moments to themselves.

Instead, I've decided to post a photo I took in Springfield, Mass., which was recently named one of the 10 Fastest Dying Cities in the U.S. by Forbes magazine. Think what you will of the list of cities; the survey does indeed highlight some of the country's more beleaguered places, like Flint, Mich., but relies heavily on black and white numbers -- not groundswells of activity in arts or culture sectors. Springfield, Mass., for example, was also named one of the 25 greenest cities in America by Country Home and Sperling's Best Places recently.

Still, there are pockets of decay and times gone by everywhere in what's known as the City of Homes. Driving through a section dubbed Six Corners, I spotted this door, only just made visible to passersby after the building in front of it was razed.

Attendance Seems to be Down, Nov. 2006, Springfield, Mass.; Nikon D70, 18 - 50 Nikkor lens 

Once, this was a church, and now is just a teetering brick wall on a dirt plot. What people made up the congregation? When did they lose their pews? Have they found a new place to worship? It's the questions surrounding this place that make it most poignant to me, and also its role as a symbol of a struggling city.

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Jax: I had such a crap day. But, I did get the scarflette I ordered from etsy , so that's a cool thing at least.

ArcherVision : I love it when you make up words.

Jax: I didn't make anything up; it is a scarflette. From etsy.

AV: *snorts* Scarfit.

Jax: Scarflette. It's a real word, like capelet.

AV: *snorts* Capelet.

Jax: Whatever.

AV: Quit making up words. 

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Still, I've wanted to start featuring a blogger once a month on the home page of TSB for a while now, and I've been struggling to figure out what the most democratic way to choose said bloggers from nearly 300 members would be. Finally, I ditched the whole statistical approach and went with the time-tested 'first come, first serve' method, and I think it's going to work out just fine.

At the end of the week, I posted a call for nominations for featured bloggers, promising to start a running list as the names poured in and featuring each blogger, in order, with a little Q & A on the front page. Just a few hours after the request went live, I had my first nomination, proving that throwing caution to the wind and letting the masses decide is a fine tenet of a thriving Blogocracy.

TSB Featured Blogger

Helmet, Utah, U.S., of Helmet's Blogapalooza

"I feel like I have arrived...or I might just have to pee..."

Nominated by: Rachael, Maine, U.S.

Blogging since: 2007

Favorite post

Q&A:
How would you categorize your blog?
I would say it would have to fall in the observational humor category. However, I just recently found out that my blog faithful were actually laughing at me, and not with me.

What's your plan to rule the world?
Easy...As the Blogapalooza readers know I'm the world's first certified Ninjirate (ninja / pirate). They also know of my extensive training and knowledge of how to survive the forthcoming zombie attack... Inevitably at some point I'm going to be called upon to save the world. Shortly after resolving the zombie threat, I will most likely be appointed or elected king of the world.

What will you say to Oprah when we're featured on her show?
First, I grab her and start jumping on her couch professing my love Tom Cruise. After she calms me down I plan to assist her in giving away a school bus to each member of 30 something bloggers.

What blogs do you read?
I read many-a-blog. Here are a just few I dig...

Candy
Caleal
The Word Perv
Sarah Nielson
...or just check my blogroll for other almost as awesome blogs.

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What an important time in history. What's a girl to do? Go take some pictures, that's what.

flickr has launched a special photo pool, 888 , to commemorate the day. As the rules stipulate, flickr photogs are charged with taking photos today and uploading one, singular moment in time to the pool, thus creating a human-powered snapshot of the globe.

Last year, a similar group, 7.7.7 , was created for similar reasons; in that case, we were asked to provide seven photos taken on 7/7/07 to help raise awareness for Unicef.

I stuck close to home last July, and decided to take pictures in my city. The trip ended up being a nice representation of the day, both globally and locally:

I'll be home again today, hunkering down as the thunderstorms continue and checking out everyone's moments in the 888 pool as it grows ( you can add photos within the next couple of weeks, btw).

What are you doing today? And did you take a picture of it? If so, comment and link to any pics! 

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I thought this week's Thematic Photographic subject was 'vanishing,' and far be it from me to ditch a perfectly good post just because it has nothing to do with anything. 

I was so impressed with 'vanishing' as a theme, too. A wide-open theme like this leaves plenty of room for interpretation, but I immediately decided to cull my UrbEx set on flickr, and this shot was an easy pick as my official entry:

South Campus, Northampton State Hospital , Northampton, Mass. - Nikon D70, 18 - 70 Nikkor lens; desaturated with Microsoft Digital Image Editor 

The South campus of Northampton State Hospital, a Kirkbride hospital, is the only major building left on the site that once housed patients. A small building called Haskell still stands across the street that was used for geriatric patients, but the main building known for its experimental treatments and utter creepiness has been leveled, leaving the South Campus to serve as the largest reminder of days gone by. The property is being redeveloped as condos and commercial space, primarily, and soon, the South Campus will be gone, too. Inside, the hallways are wide and the rooms are small cells with barred windows and metal doors - all hallmarks of the Kirkbride design. As such, it's virtually impossible to reuse the building for any other reason.

 Knots, Nikon D70, 18 - 70 Nikkor lens

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ref=http://www.musicplaylist.us>

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Congratulations to Andi and Bryan on the birth of their new daughter, Charlie!

I received their birth announcement today, designed and made by Andi herself, an artist and designer by blood and an editor at a very well-known private college in Cambridge, Mass. by trade. The announcements even included custom stickers directing friends and family to Andi and Bry's Web site:

I'm forever impressed by the creativity of my friends.

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The highlight of the weekend was dinner at Spoletos, though - a Sunday al fresco experience with four-courses and the subsequent pant-splitting feeling.

Spoletos is a contemporary Italian/Mediterranean place around the corner from my house that has great decor, a patio, creative food, and an awesome wine list. They also do this four-course prix fixe menu that saves cash while at the same time putting a ridiculous amount of food in front of you.

Starting with cocktails...

a bruschetta duo that was sort of a greek/italian combo...

stuffed garlic bread, a personal fave...

grilled chicken chevre with garlic, prosciutto, sundried tomatoes, and mashed potatoes...

pork chops and carmelized apples with yams

dessert was rum raisin pudding and chocolate mousse. I'll be eating tap water and air for the next three days to offset the caloric intake.

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I sent my card to her earlier this week, so I hope she gets it soon - unlike V, I was not so smart as to afix a return address label, so if the 41-cent stamp that's no good for a real letter anymore comes loose (I pried it off a pre-stamped envelope I had in my office, I'm not going to lie), I'm screwed.

It's cool to step out of the blogosphere every now and again, especially when making connections with new people. And postcards are fun - they're sort of the early version of Twitter, and make for good collectibles. I have a collection of post- and art-cards that once graced the kitchen cabinets at my old apartment, and now are taped up in various places around my desk. I pick them up on trips and from museums and stores, and some were sent to me by friends and family.

On the sending end, making sure I send a postcard to my niece has been an important part of every vacation or press trip for me for years. This tradition started with my older sister, her mom, who always sent a postcard home to me while on her travels. Now, I have two nieces, and as such two people to make sure receive a little greeting when I'm away.

Thanks for adding to the tradition, V! Looking forward to adding to the collection...

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This week's theme is 'signs,' which I was particularly excited about because signs, strange and otherwise, are one of my favorite things to shoot. I skimmed my submissions in the 'Signs of the Times ' group on flickr, and decided to go with this one:

Stumble and Hop, Dublin, Ireland, 2005 -- 35 mm capture/ Nikon N90 / 28 - 200 Tamron lens 

I've always thought it was a riot, right down to the cup abandoned on the cobblestone in the lower right-hand corner. Still, according to flickr, it has only been viewed four times - so I thought it was time to give it a little showcase.The photo was taken, obviously, at the Guinness Storehouse in Dublin, Ireland, and the 'drunk' is fellow writer and e.e. cummings fan George Houde.

* - yeah, it's an Ace of Base reference. 

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Editor: Now, when you two come in tomorrow, you'll have two tasks ahead of you.

Jax: Shoot and kill?

Joe : Aim and fire?

(For explanation's sake, here's a post from this time last year. That's about where we are now.)

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Lyon is known for its Beaujolais wine, but it's also famous for candies and desserts, and an interesting entree called quenelles -- a mixture of dough and meat (seafood, chicken, truffles, you name it) served often with a creamy sauce.

I'm going to search for a recipe and post it here soon.

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So, we did what any normal people would do, and decided to have a turkey-burger-cook-off.

We pulled every sauce, spread, and marinade we had out of the fridge and laid them out on the counter, along with the two lettuce leaves, half of a yellow pepper, wilty scallions, and precariously soft tomato we found in the crisper, and a few bread choices. Then, jockeying for position over the stove, we each cooked our patties and set to work creating Culinary Feats of Wonder. The rules weren't laid out terribly clearly - there was some debate over whether or not two, individual burgers on one plate could count as one entry, for instance. But with only two people to enter, judge, and witness the whole spectacle, splitting hairs seemed like a waste of valuable garnish-preparation time.

Mise en Place:

Plating:

ArcherVision uses the 'crab technique' to garnish the plate

Presentation:

'The ArcherVision Two-patty, Multi-cheese Extravaganza Burger Plate': Two turkey burgers with cheddar or mozzarella, red peppers, lettuce and tomato

'The Refresher' : turkey burger with sour cream, whole wheat wraps, tomato, scallions, and shredded cheese

My completely inobjective assessment of the competition is this: ArcherVision gets points for forming the cous cous with a measuring cup. I get props for taking the healthy route, as well as the more realistic one.

From there, everyone else can really only vote by appearance ... but go ahead, have at it!

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(click on my bro to view the tiniest video ever!) 

shot some photos of creepy staircases:

...and trekked up to Provincetown for a day of sight-seeing, shopping, and noshing. The highlight of the trip was lunch at the Landmark Cafe, where we met the inventor of the Landmark Chicken Sandwich, Dante (who also had his own pens with his name on them. Why don't I think of these things?).

Dante had already won me over before we learned that he had patents pending on a chicken sandwich - when I asked about the restroom, he replied "We don't have one, but I'd be glad to bring you a cup." Everyone loves a wise-ass. 

The sandwich was a grilled chicken breast with roasted red peppers and sauteed onions. I opted for the whole belly clams, but it looked like a well-put-together sandwich from across the table, and the Landmark's cole slaw made with vinaigrette instead of mayo, which accompanies every dish, was really tasty. I failed to ask Dante if he invented the slaw as well; he was in the back somewhere looking for a cup. 

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Reading a little about Estelle Getty's passing today, I was struck by the theme of perseverance. She held low-level office jobs for years, begging her employers not to promote her, so she wouldn't lose sight of her real dream of acting. When she finally landed the role of 80-year old Sophia at the age of 60 (after flunking her screen test twice because she came off too young), she quickly rose from bit character to part of the main ensemble, and won two Emmys.

True, Golden Girls was just a t.v. show. But it was well written, sharp, funny, and poignant, and included an elderly character with a beaded purse wedged into the crook of her arm who is a hard one for a lot of us to forget. After reading more about the woman behind the make-up, I realized that she lived her dream in every sense of the phrase. Kinda makes giving up on something in your thirties seem just plain silly, eh? 

You travelled down the road, and back again

Your heart is true, you're a pal and a confidante.

And if you threw a party! 

I-i-i-invited everyone you knew

You would see the biggest gift would be from me

and the card attached would say

Thank you for being a friend 

Which Golden Girl are you? 

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I recently bought a few pairs of these earrings for friends from Kathy's Creations.

They came pre-wrapped in cute, little fabric bags, and I also got a free pair of earrings for myself with the order - bonus!

Then, just yesterday, I received these vintage earrings I purchased from Vintage Misc.:

and they arrived wrapped in printed tissue with a little greeting card inside, thanking me for the purchase. People are so nice.

But it's not just the customer service and the personal touch I love -- it's being able to browse thousands of one-of-a-kind things to find one that's a perfect fit for my style, and actually finding it!

Here are a few things on my wish list:

Sigh, a dress after my own, nerdy heart!

Vintage overlay skirt:

faux bois tags:

sellers: makool, paperhill, and heatherlea

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Sure, it's not a bad tune - danceable beat, catchy, and Perry has a nice voice. But people. Am I the only person who remembers that this theme has been covered already? Songs about kissing girls is SO 1995, literally!

Jill Sobule became a pop-rock hero for nerdy chicks everywhere when she released I Kissed A Girl and its accompanying video, featuring Fabio, who is also So 1995. Now, I'm not discounting the musical worthiness of Perry's tune, but I'm willing to bet that a big reason the song is so huge right now is its title. Dammit, you Millenials! Could you at least check with Gen X to see if we've done it already? Sure, there's a lot more of you than of us, but we have made our contributions to pop culture. 

Plus, Perry's title recycling is just one small example of a lot of retread going on in music, television, and film. We thought we'd never see anything quite like Can't Buy Me Love again ... but wait, this teen flick Love Don't Cost a Thing seems awfully familiar, albeit without Patrick Dempsey's gangly, pre-McDreamy charm. Frickin' Knight Rider is back on tv. The other day, I heard a cover of Genesis' Land of Confusion, and promptly decided that the original is better and that this new band, Disturbed, couldn't touch the original video with a 10-foot pole. Because everyone loves puppets - even if they're Republicans.

I'm really hoping the tide is going to turn soon and that a new wave of creative, dynamic material is going to gush forward. I've already seen grunge and Reality Bites. I am already down with OPP. I still can't afford my rock 'n roll lifestyle. Enough with the sampling, kids! And Dear God, don't go telling me I'm already retro.

What have you seen coming Back to the Future lately? 

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The festival is held in Greenfield, Mass.; it's the Commonwealth's newest city, and overall, a very progressive, growing place. I had a sneak peak into the planning of the event early last week, when I took a hot-air balloon ride as part of a media trip, but I didn't know what to expect other than the musical line-up and that blankets and outside food were allowed.

I bought tickets initially because Lucinda Williams was on the bill, and also because I love music fests in general and the tickets were ridiculously cheap ($40). ArcherVision and I arrived at about 3 p.m. on Saturday, and the field was already filled with a rainbow of people, tents, and beach umbrellas:

We'd brought a sad little array of supplies compared to most people - just a blanket, a picnic bag with drinks, cheese and crackers, and Snickers bars, a bag with emergency jeans and raincoats, and a little peace flag I usually attach to the back of my kayak. Other concert-goers had full camping tents, coolers full of drinks and food, tables and chairs, and kites flying above their sites - next year, I'm going full bore.

There were two stages - the main stage and a dance tent, which was packed as full as the main draw most of the day. The perimeter of the festival was lined with vendors and food booths that were not offering the normal concert fare - we saw summer rolls, pad thai, fried bananas, fried oysters, greek salads, kettle corn, gourmet ice cream ... the festival could have survived on the food component alone. I settled on fried clams, ArcherVision had a pulled pork bbq sandwich with pickled onions and orzo salad. I didn't get a picture of the latter until it was nearly gone, speaking to its awesomeness:

As for the music, this was one of the best mixes of performers I've seen in a long time, and I was exposed to some new sounds I plan on following, such as the alternative bluegrass band Crooked Still:

and the inexplicably INSANELY FANTASTIC Los Straitjackets. Now, the photo below will tell you a lot about them...

... but not the whole story. Yes, they have matching suits and guitars, wear full face masks, and choreograph their movements to the music. But Los Straitjackets also play Dicky-Dale-on-crack surf rock with incredible skill, and speak to the audience only in Spanish, even though their accents suggest they're from, like, Minnesota or somewhere. Another act, a singer named Big Sandy, joined them on stage for a few songs, also sung in Spanish.

There were a few local favorites playing in the dance tent, too, such as The Primate Fiasco and The Gokh-bi System.

This guy enjoyed both:

As night fell, Mavis Staples took the main stage. Staples was a 'freedom singer' during the Civil Rights Movment, often performing with or for Dr. Martin Luther King. In addition to a great set, she told stories about King, her father Pops Staples, and experiences with segregation in her childhood. The audience hung on her every word.

At the end of the night, Lucinda Williams came on stage as the headliner, and gave us a great set that was, however, very sparse on her hits. She avoided Car Wheels on a Gravel Road, Essence, and Righteously, but did kickin' versions of Joy and Come On. My photos are crap because it was dark, here's the best one:

There were other things that made the Green River Festival a good time, too. First, it was family friendly but not overrun with hot, cranky kids. It was also very well-organized, parking was close to the venue, and overall I thought the crowd ranked very low on the concert-asshole scale. There was a lot of camaraderie, not a lot of pushing, and a chill feeling even at the hottest point of the day. I'm already planning my campsite for next year - maybe something with a roasting spit ...

See the whole day on flickr here

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Sure, it's an adage that doesn't roll of the tongue that easily, but it's true nevertheless. I've attended many a benefit dinner with a deliberately over-sized purse. It's not just economics that make me take notice of the spread, though -- I'm a complete foodie, and thankfully, my job is one that allows for some liberal face-stuffing.

I have a flickr set called The Foodie Files where I post some of my plated adventures, like this sirloin and gnocchi parfait:

and this action shot of Shootflying Hill Dessert Sauce being made before I was able to taste-test it:

and these quenelles with Giraudet sauce, served at a Rhone-Alpes tasting dinner in Lyon, France:

But I'm always looking for something new and epicurious, whether I'm writing about it or not, and lately I've been taking notice of many of the fantastic foodie blogs out there, in an effort to further stretch my culinary muscle.

Here are a few of my favorites:

Bakerella

superfood

My Burning Kitchen

Dozen Flours

Steakhead's Atlanta Eats

Any other suggestions?

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Anyone who's seen my sidebar this week could have guessed what kind of products Retail Therapy Thursday would focus on today. But I'm not going to just shamelessly plug my own stuff - emphasis on just. 

I've been thinking about t-shirts for a while now. I have a larger-than-normal love for t-shirts, especially the kind that fit nicely. Especially the kind that fit nicely after 15 years.

But it's not just 100% cotton and pithy sayings across the chest that I enjoy; it's more the nostalgia factor. Think about it. Where do you buy your tees? Sure, a few come from Old Navy, but I'd wager your favorites are from concerts, plays, your alma mater, vacations, conferences and other little life moments that seem best commemorated with short sleeves. 

Plus, t-shirts have gotten so darn versatile! They're paired with jeans and skirts and shorts and swim trunks and the occasional sari. They're tiny fit, perfect fit, roomy fit, distressed, pressed, and dyed-to-match. The great ones, we wear out on a Saturday night. The veterans retire to the bedroom where they become well-worn sleep shirts.

What. Is not. To love.

So with this in mind, I whipped up a few shirts in honor of something else I love - TSB, the rockin', ever-growing group of Gen X bloggers that WILL be on Oprah, making Oprah laugh at our awesome jokes some day. They're pretty simple, but some thought did go into the designs, as in the shirt above. First, the text is our trademark green. The logo is also on the smaller side, because t-shirts with New York Post-style headlines are so 1998. And finally, the shirt above is part of Zazzle's sustainable clothing line, which I appreciate. 

I also created a TSB shirt for dudes and a couple of products for kids, as well as a few t-shirt ideas I had kicking around in my head that I hope catch on in the Geek Community. This is my favorite, because it applies to many different types of people:

I've asked some of my fellow thirty-something bloggers to let me know if they're selling any merch, so we can continue to build our empire spread the love. We might even start a directory, so all of your hipster shopping needs can be met in just a few easy clicks. (Too HSN?)

I know of a few entrepreneurial souls among the ranks already - The Slackmistress, for instance, just launched her own line of Slackstuff for her trusty band of minion-followers, which includes t-shirts, but also magnets, bumper stickers, and my personal fave, the slacktie. 

What are some of your favorite online wares? Or how about your favorite tee?

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My friends at Winstanley Associates sent me their latest wacky creation, the Pet Peeve. It's actually an empty box - something they've had success with before -- but the cool factor here is that the packaging directs you to a Web site where you really can air your grievances.

Peeves already posted range from 'people who say on line instead of in line' to 'agency owners who create inane promotions I'm compelled to respond to.' There's also space to 're-peeve,' or comment on other people's peeves.

Hint: click on The Pet Peeve on the right of the screen for 14-year-old fun.

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Ok, so sometimes, Moday's turn out to be better than you think. Sometimes a perk comes along and drops into your lap, as if from out of the sky.

Such was the case yesterday - here I am, trudging through e-mails and manila folders with one eye on the clock as it crept through the afternoon, when the phone rings. Instead of getting the fifth Bad Pitch of the day, however, I got an invite to a media event. 

In a hot-air balloon.

It was about 1 pm when I got the call, and lift-off was at 6 pm in beautiful, bucolic Greenfield - the heart of Franklin County in Massachusetts, and also the host city for the annual Green River Festival, for which, oddly enough, I have tickets. Coordinators had devised a media flight to tout the festival and its obvious balloon component,  and to help drum up sponsors for the 2009 festival. I have no idea how I ended up on their radar screen, but hey, no complaints.

I jumped into the trusty Scion with little more than a Randy Marsh 'See Ya' to my editor, and headed up to where the trees grow tall and the air seems a little cleaner. Ah, Franklin County, with your rolling hills and responsible energy policies. And people call Boston the Hub!

This was to be my first hot-air balloon flight, so I may have pushed the pedal to the metal a bit. I got to 'the flight site' about 20 minutes early, sat in on some planning chatter among the festival committee that only got me more excited about Saturday's event, and then turned my attention to Paul Sena and his crew as they hauled a balloon and basket onto the field that I later found out was named the ThunderBuster.

Only as Paul told me, you can't just say 'that balloon is called the ThunderBuster.' Nay, you have to say THUUUUUNDERBUSTERRRRR! Fine with me.

Here is where the first of a number of misconceptions I had about  balloon flight was dispelled; it doesn't take forever to blow up a hot-air balloon, it actually only takes about 20 minutes from rolling out the canvas to seeing it pop into the sky over the basket.

Here are a few more things I didn't know, because apparently I'm a little thick when it comes to aviation:

• I did not need the sweater I brought along for the ride. We were not leaving the earth's atmosphere.

• Balloons aren't really steered to the left or right; they go up, down, and where the wind takes them.

• Balloon flight is not loud, except when the fire is shot into the canvas, and even that's not that loud.

• You don't turn around and go back where you came from in a balloon. I almost hate to admit that's what I always assumed. It's actually much cooler - a chase car follows the balloon, and the crew inside parks where the craft decides to land and grabs lines to hold it down.

Once the balloon was inflated, the pilot and two other riders (I was the only member of the press that responded to the call; seriously? Seriously.) and I climbed in via a precarious little step and peered down as we lifted from the ground, people waving goodbye as we floated away. We did a 'touch and go' so Paul could show us how the basket lands - with a bit of a thud, a pitch, and a drag. Not so much to be unnerving, but there was instruction to bend our legs at touchdown, so me with the wrecked left knee was appreciative of the dry run.

Then, we rose - higher and higher, the shadow of the balloon getting smaller by the foot (about 4,000 of them), and the farmland of Franklin County stretching out below us. This is by far the best way to sight-see, and it was only made better by people in cars and even on foot waving to us as we sailed by. Although so high up in the air, they were able to see us and even yell hellos - we saw some backyard barbecue-ers, and asked them to cook extra burgers for us as they flailed their spatulas in our direction.  

After flying over neighborhoods, streets, Little League games, and row upon row of corn fields, Paul started looking for a place to land and talking to the chase car via Walkie-Talkie. They suggested a field that we missed, and later a cemetery that was a little too close to some power lines. We had an up-close-and-personal encounter with a tree, but Paul assured us that with a little burst of flame, we'd fly right over it, and we did.

On the other side of the tree line was a small neighborhood, and it was here Paul decided to land. The chase car in hot pursuit, we began to descend onto the backyard of a private home. The husband and wife owners of the house ran out frantically - the former looking a little concerned at first, the latter snapping pictures with a huge grin on her face. The neighbors came out of their houses, too, crowding around and waving and shooting photos, and we gently bounced to a stop without leaving a mark on the lawn.

One at a time as the balloon began to deflate, we scrambled out of the basket and threw our bodies onto the canvas to help push the air out, so the balloon could be gathered into its carrying bag. A round of applause for Paul followed, and another for the homeowners, who were presented with a bottle of champagne for serving as a landing pad. The woman who lived there was thrilled; she said in the 20-plus years the Green River music and balloon festival had been staged in her hometown, she'd always dreamed a balloon would land in her yard, and now, her dream had come true.

She, her husband, and their neighbors waved goodbye as we left in the chase car - the goodwill was really inspiring - and we trekked back to our cars as the sun set. Back at home base, Paul and his wife set up a little table with cheese, crackers, chips, and champagne, and toasted us for completing our first balloon flight.

With luck, I'll actually get to see Paul and my fellow riders on Saturday when I attend the concert, making my little Monday excursion even more worthwhile. Paul said no matter what the circumstances, as a pilot he's realized that a hot-air balloon flight is one of those things people like to "cross of their Bucket Lists." It's now crossed off mine, making room for even more flights of fancy. 

See the whole trip on flickr here 

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