Balloon Animals

Behold! An animal's likeness, created from an ordinary balloon!

It's a neat trick. Like a lot of people, I've watched, impressed, as skilled hands twist and shape a long balloon into such caricatures.

And I was even more impressed recently, when my daughter began making her own balloon animals.

I'm not sure exactly where she picked this up, but I think it was at school. There is no balloon animals class, naturally. But that's where this interest of hers seems to have begun.

She started making balloon animals just a few days ago, at this writing. Or at least, I just learned of it a few days ago. She brought home a few long balloons and, in effect, said, "Look what I can do!"

And look I did, like any proud papa would.

She's always been artistically inclined. That's how she expressed herself at a very young age. If she was happy about something, it came out in her drawings; likewise if she was sad.

There is no linkage, but when she and her brother were still very small, I went through a period of making balloon animals myself. Bought a book with some of the basic steps, and began twisting away.

Most of the balloon animals I made looked pretty much the same. There's a basic a balloon animal form, and the balloon animals I made were all variations on it.

I learned to make a dog. Want to see a balloon cat? Just like a dog, but with a longer tail. A balloon giraffe? Identical, nearly, but with a longer neck.

And so on.

In a very short time, though, my daughter has surpassed my puny balloon animal abilities. I've been considerably impressed.

She's made a balloon animal monkey, a balloon animal swan, and a balloon animal mouse (or rat, we're not sure which).

She's made a balloon animal elephant, and as you perhaps can tell by the progression of photographs accompanying this text, a balloon animal teddy bear.

She made a balloon animal for me. She made a balloon animal for her mother. And for her brother, she made a balloon animal sword.

Unfortunately, the teddy bear balloon in these photos popped before she finished it. This is a hazard of twisting balloon animals. They break oh so easily!

But my daughter is not easily deterred. Gamely, she started another balloon teddy bear after this first one popped.

She finished it in about five minutes. Then she made a reindeer. And after that, she twisted a cat. The cat is in the photo at left, chasing one of her balloon animal mice (or rats – as I said, we aren't sure which).

Not too far from where we live, there is a three or four block long pedestrian mall. It's just a shopping district, really, but buskers are permitted to ply their trades for the entertainment of shoppers. You'll find musicians and jugglers and magicians, even during the winter. There's one mainstay, a contortionist, who for years has entertained onlookers by squeezing himself into a plexiglass box. (I can't stand watching him.)

Anyway, there are also balloon animal artists. Some of these people are incredible; their work far exceeds mere balloon animals. One guy, for example, twists these spirals, and somehow gets a knotted up balloon bit inside the spiral, which then spins down the inside like a toy. Quite remarkable.

I only mention this because I need to fill in some space to accommodate more pictures. For the present, I don't think my daughter aspires to the high level of balloon artistry as on that pedestrian mall ... although you never know.

Traditions

“Start a tradition.”

This is a phrase I hear from time to time. It irritates the hell out of me.

Admittedly, I can be a bit of a curmudgeon when it comes to careless use of language. I concede that.

But, not without reason. As Frederick Barthelme observed, words have meanings.

My dictionary defines "tradition" as 1) the transmission of beliefs from generation to generation, or 2) a long-established custom or belief.

So you can't really start a new tradition. You can start something and hope it turns into a tradition – Wednesday night is spaghetti night! – but you can't make it happen.

I see the careless use of language all the time, and it really rankles me.

I once started a list of particularly irritating examples of the careless use of language. I didn't get very far with it. About the only one I remember is using the word film (as a verb, to film) when you mean videotape.

Get Out of the Way

This past weekend, during a college football game I saw on the tube, a referee got knocked down by a player.

He might have been hit by a speeding locomotive. The player, a running back at full speed, got pushed out of bounds along the sidelines, directly into the hapless referee. The collision first knocked the ref backward, and then down on his caboose.

It surprised me, but shouldn't have, that the running back didn't bother to help the ref back to his feet. Let alone say anything to him. Let alone apologize for what was clearly an accident.

The ref probably didn't expect anything like that. These things happen. It's an occupational hazard. Comes with the territory. A trainer from one of the football teams ran over to check on the ref, a side judge. He was shaken up but able to continue his whistle blowing.

This incident reminded me of another televised sporting event I saw, from long ago, as a kid. It was a baseball game, live from Japan, two Japanese teams. Probably on the Wide World of Sports.

A batter was hit by pitch. Immediately, the pitcher ran to home plate and bowed apologetically. The batter accepted the apology before trotting down to first base.

This apology impressed the hell out of me. That's how they do it in Japan. At the risk of demonstrating my cultural ignorance, it seemed like hitting a batter brought great shame to the pitcher.

The contrast between these two incidents exemplifies something to me. I'm not sure what, but some sort of American macho bullshit. As if an apology by that football player would have shown weakness. The Japanese pitcher demonstrated you can respect your opponent (or ref), and acknowledge his humanity, even in the midst of competition.