Our Balloon Ride -- Up With 10 Passengers, Down with 6...What's Up (or Down) With That?
All my life I've looked forward to someday going up in a hot air balloon. I think it all may have started with my early obsession with the Wizard of Oz. When we were kids, there were no videos and when this movie came on TV once a year, it was a big deal. We carefully laid out blankets in front of the black and white TV (we knew that OZ was in color but it didn't matter to us), popped popcorn, and nothing could drag us away. Last year, I bought a prepaid discounted balloon ride package from Zozi and intented to use it last summer. When William got so sick, we completely put this out of our minds. Finally, a couple of Saturdays ago, John and I finally found ourselves stepping into a big wicker basket ready to go up in a multi-colored balloon, lifted up by nothing more than hot air, to float where ever the breeze happened to blow us. On that early morning, after a week of sky-cleaning Santa Ana winds, we met at the Perris Airport at 6 am. We got into a big Ford passenger van and