No. 6
A Guide to Successful Blimping
A Guide to Successful Blimping
Lesson No. 1 - Blimps are the gentlemanly way to travel.
Hello everyone, I'm excited to share that I had the opportunity to serve as a mentor to an underprivileged youth! As you know, the Blimping Corps has a hand in sponsoring several youth programs. For example, just recently you may have had a Little Blimpie come knock on your door, trying to sell you some baked goods or perhaps a gas-powered chainsaw. (They work so hard on those chainsaw demonstrations; it's always nice to pitch in.) Or maybe you've seen a troop of Blimp Scouts out in the woods, learning to tie knots and perform other rope-related activities that establish early blimping skills. Or maybe you've donated to the Future Blimpers of America, a college preparatory program that prepares high school students for a strenuous four years in a university blimp studies program. Well, I had the honor to become a mentor with the Junior Blimping Club, which has been working closely with adolescents since its establishment in 1905. I was really moved by their enthusiastic approach at building a love for blimping during a youth's formative years, so it seemed like a great way to get involved in the community.
Anyway, the Junior Blimping Club pairs experienced blimpmen, such as myself, with youth who may be in need of a role model. Since my particular mentee is a minor, I'm a little hesitant to share a story about him. Let's call him "Schmeddie" for the sake of keeping his identity protected. Okay, that's dumb, I'm not calling him that. His name is Freddie. But I just won't say his last name, deal?
As I was saying, Freddie had been going through a challenging time when we first met. He came from a rough neighborhood, and his parents worked three jobs apiece. (Dad is a handyman-cobbler-fishmonger, and mom is a maid-dogwalker-dogmaid.) They worked hard to pay for his tuition at an elite private school known as the Brazenbuild School for Boys and Now Girls Technically. The headmaster at Brazenbuild approached me personally, knowing me to be a fine and influential blimpman in our community, and he thought I might influence Freddie in a positive manner. The young man had been having some trouble fitting in at school, what with the skipping class, occasional fisticuffs with rich kids, and one offense involving a loose squirrel set in the girls' locker-room (formerly the boys' sweat lodge).
"I'd expect this kind of trouble from girls," said Headmaster Tutten with a scoff, "but a boy? Surely, no. They have too much sense to be stirring up this kind of ruckus when everything is just fine the way it has been for years."
So over the past few weeks, I've been meeting with Freddie regularly. The first few meetings - if I'm being honest - didn't go so well. In fact, it wasn't until our fourth meeting that I realized the boy I had been meeting with wasn't actually Freddie at all, but rather a totally separate boy that Freddie had been paying off. Instead of going to Junior Blimping Club meetings with me, like he had been telling his parents he was doing, he was actually off at the dog track. It wasn't until his mother was attending a race with one of her clients, a wealthy greyhound, that Freddie got busted.
So then I started meeting with the real Freddie. He did start to warm up to me a little when he first heard that I owned a blimp. I could see that eager look in his eyes that so many young men get when they first hear about the unfettered glory of flying in a lighter-than-air airship. It was then that I asked him if he wanted to see my blimp.
"Definitely! And you'll let me fly it?" he exclaimed excitedly.
"Easy there," I said with a hearty but fatherly laugh, "piloting a blimp is more art than science. Yes, you need to learn skills, but it takes years of apprenticeship to really know what it takes to tame the skies. The Eurydice is a masterpiece of a blimp, and only the hands of a skilled artist may caress her supple balloon."
He giggled. I did too. That's when I knew this mentorship thing would be alright.
I started dropping Freddie off at school each morning for the next week. He really took a liking to arriving via blimp at the front doors of the school. Soon he became the envy of every Dick and Jane wearing the Brazenbuild uniform. I felt proud that Freddie was beginning to turn his image around, all thanks to the admirable influence of the Blimping Corps.
I overheard him talking to some of his classmates. "Take a look at this Jeff," he said, pointing to me and the blimp. "He's gonna let me fly it someday."
The other kids exclaimed in wonder, "Is that true, Jeff? You're gonna let Freddie fly it?"
I didn't know who this Jeff fellow was that they were talking about, but I said that with the right amount of training and hard work - and most importantly, heart - anyone was capable of flying a blimp. They laughed - no doubt imagining their own joyous future as successful blimpmen - and they headed inside the school.
Later on, I met up with my dearest companion Mandelbaum over kopi luwak coffee* and told him all about my work with Freddie - how he was beginning to turn around from a devious scamp to a most honorable junior blimper. Mandelbaum took a long thoughtful sip of his pre-digested coffee and looked up at me. I could only wonder what he was thinking. Then he advised me that I should be careful, that I shouldn't get too invested.
I was really surprised by his somewhat sour attitude about the whole thing. Could it be that my friend is a little jealous that I'm spending my time with someone other than him? I found it endearing.
Anyway, I was really excited about working with Freddie some more in order to take the young lad under my wing, and I was considering some future lessons that I might teach him. I thought, "Maybe next time I'll teach him how to grease up an aft propeller. Those words sound funny enough to a teenage boy, right? Grease, aft, propeller. He'll get a kick out of that."
All I could think about was how good it felt to do some good! But little did I know how much wisdom my friend Mandelbaum would turn out to possess...
#mentor #juniorblimpingclub #BSfBaNGT #freddie
*Ask about the secret menu next time you go to Starbucks. If it's civet season, treat yourself to some delicious pre-digested coffee. Totally worth the $235.45 for a grande size!
Lesson No. 2 - There is no title more honorable than "blimpman."
Everything was going great with my involvement in the Junior Blimping Club. My eager mentee, Freddie, was learning all about the wonderful world of blimping. He really took a liking to the hands-on aspects of blimping, like ballast hoisting and the way helium makes your voice sound funny. (I used to enjoy such youthful whimsicality myself, but as of late I've become less amused by high-pitched voices and squeaking sounds, especially after all these deadly run-ins with squirrels.)
Freddie and I were spending day after day together, and I never caught any signs that the boy was having any trouble. Rather, he was growing in his education, about blimps and about life. In fact, Headmaster Tutten over at the Brazenbuild School was so impressed with me after Freddie's change from a rascally jackanape to a somewhat-less-rascally whippersnapper that he invited me to speak in front of the whole student body. He figured more students would benefit from hearing a speech by an esteemed blimpman.
I arrived at the school on the day of the aforementioned assembly, and I was pleased to see that my friend Mandelbaum was also there. He was at the podium just finishing a lecture on squirrel safety tips, but unfortunately the crowd of rambunctious adolescents in the auditorium weren't paying him much attention. (It's a shame really that they don't take the impending threat of squirrel violence more seriously. But who does at that age, you know? We all remember our foolish decisions from our youth.)
Arriving late, I found my seat up on the stage next to a few other guest speakers, and I soon spotted Freddie seated down in the crowd. I waved to him, and he leaned over and whispered something to his neighboring friend - no doubt bragging about his own personal affiliation with the keynote speaker. Mandelbaum finished his rather grim and gory lecture, ending with a detail about the countless ways that squirrels can maim you, and no one clapped but me. He mumbled something angrily under his breath as he left the stage, something about no respect.
My turn had arrived and I walked up to the podium and introduced myself, but I was quickly interrupted by a kid in the crowd shouting, "My name is Jeff!" All the others laughed hysterically. (It kind of sounded like Freddie's voice, but who can tell any semi-pubescent boy's voice apart from another.) I really didn't get what they were laughing about anyway.
I cleared my throat and continued on: "Thank you Headmaster Tutten, staff, and students of the Brazenbuild School. It truly brightens my day to be here with you today. Let me ask you this. Who here has ever considered a job where they can sleep in late and work any hour they want?"
The crowd cheered.
"And who here wants a job where there's no boss, and there's no man telling you what to do?"
They cheered some more; now I really had them on the hook.
"And who here wants to be stinking rich?!"
A frenzy of applause.
"Well you better get over it because that job doesn't exist."
Silence...
"But what I can offer you is an exciting career in blimping. Yes, being a blimp pilot is exciting and full of adventure, but it's also full of hard work. You have to get up early, conduct regular blimp maintenance that takes an exhausting number of hours, and there are actually, like, a ton of laws regulating blimp flights in domestic airspace. Plus, it's a really expensive way to get around, you guys."
I was losing them, I could tell. I looked at Freddie, who wasn't even making eye contact with me, and he seemed embarrassed. I had to think of something quick.
"Actually, forget all about that. Hey, have you ever heard of the Pingdu pelican? Well that's a blimping adventure you simply must hear!"
I was only a few minutes into the start of my tale, their eager young ears clinging to my every word, when some commotion in the audience suddenly caught my attention. I glanced over at Mandelbaum who was standing backstage, and he was positioned as alert and upright as a meerkat defending its burrow from a tawny eagle. I knew something was up, but before I could even register my thoughts, several girls in the crowd let out blood-curdling SCREAMS.
Mandelbaum sprung into action, and he dived onto the stage, tackling me to the ground and no doubt saving my life from some potential assassin. I lay there on the stage, dazed, looking up thankfully into his beautiful brown eyes, being smothered safely in his vast bosom, but he wasted no time getting back into the action. He leapt off the stage and charged into the screaming crowd of children.
I could hear - but not see - what was causing the chaos. Squeaking. Vicious squawks and squeals that were the unmistakable cries of a SQUIRREL. I would know that sound anywhere. Panic set in. It was a madhouse in that auditorium as children screamed in terror and were climbing over seats. Mandelbaum raced into the crowd of stampeding children, flinging their tiny bodies into the air left and right in an attempt to get to the center of the threat.
I came to my senses and got to my feet. I followed him into the crowd as fast as I could. Despite my own terror, I knew I had to help. However, my selfish thoughts (I'm ashamed to say) were only of Freddie's safety and no one else's. Where was he at the time of the attack? Was he far enough away from harm? Mandelbaum finally reached the location of the unseen squirrel, and that's when the mood in the room suddenly changed.
The children all around were rolling on the floor with laughter and jabbing insults at each other for being "scared, whatever, I wasn't scared, you were scared." Mandelbaum slowly picked something up off the ground. It was a loose, flapping piece of rubber.
"A helium balloon?" I asked.
Headmaster Tutten had Freddie by the ear and was dragging him up the main aisle toward the exit. Mandelbaum and I followed them, and by the time we arrived in the narthex, Freddie was receiving an earful from the red-faced and fuming headmaster.
"How dare you! Did a girl put you up to this?!"
"It wasn't me!" cried Freddie. "I swear!"
I stepped in and put some distance between Freddie and the angry headmaster. I said calmly, "Freddie, are you sure you had nothing to do with this? Are you telling me this helium did not come from my blimp?"
Freddie had his hands in the air, a plea for mercy, tears welling up in his eyes. "It wasn't me! The other kids are always jealous of me. They see me riding around in that blimp, and they hate on me. No matter what I do, they'll never like me. That's why they pulled the prank - they thought it would be funny to scare everybody after all that talk about squirrels and junk. They wanted to blame it on me."
I reached out and put a hand on the boy's shoulder. I hadn't realized until then just how small he was. I really did feel sorry for him. It wasn't his fault that he'd been put in this unfair situation - a new school, an outcast.
I could feel the heavy gazes of Mandelbaum and the headmaster weighing on me, awaiting my decree of judgment. I turned to them, holding the rather damning piece of evidence of the empty helium balloon in my hand. I straightened my tie and said firmly, "Unless there's any proof that this balloon came from Freddie, and not some other child, then I do believe we're done here."
The headmaster scoffed bitterly and said that he could not definitively prove that the balloon came from Freddie. Mandelbaum remained silent. With that, I turned the boy away with my arm around his shoulder, and we headed out of the auditorium. Freddie looked back at the two scowling men on the way out the door, and I'm still not certain even now, but I'm pretty sure I caught the slightest glimpse of a smirk on the boy's face.
#guestspeaker #heliumprank #squirrelsafety #careersinblimping
-----
The SVRC Field Guide for Squirrel Safety:
1. Don't touch a squirrel; it makes them angry.
2. Don't feed a squirrel; it fuels their rage.
3. Don't make eye contact with a squirrel; it makes them angry.
4. Pretty much everything makes them angry.
5. If you do make eye contact with a squirrel, it's already too late. There are already two more squirrels - one on your left and one on your right - who are closing in on you. (See Appendix A: "Velociraptor Hunting Style.")
6. Keep at least 50 meters between you and any squirrel.
7. Don't let a squirrel see you gathering nuts; this is a sign of aggression.
8. Don't turn your back to a squirrel; this is a sign of passive aggression.
9. Don't discuss politics with a squirrel.
10. Don't mimic a squirrel's voice or squirrel sounds.
11. Don't say a squirrel's name three times; this summons them.
12. Don't try to repel a squirrel with chemical repellants; this only gets them high and makes them more aggressive. (See Appendix B: "Levels of Squirrel Rage.")
13. Always be aware of your surroundings. (For more information about how to look up to spot flying squirrels, see Appendix C: "How to Look up to Spot Flying Squirrels.")
14. If you are bitten by a rabid or zombie squirrel, immediately seek medical help.
15. Don't climb trees in squirrel-infested areas.
16. If you hunt squirrels, expect retaliation.
17. Don't touch a squirrel corpse (i.e., roadkill), or you may be blamed for the crime.
18. Don't enter the squirrel kingdom of Squercia (aka the Great Oakdom) without express invitation, a diplomatic envoy, and a peace offering of at least nine bushels of acorns.
19. Never allow squirrels to possess the secret knowledge of making fire. (See Appendix D: "The Prometheus Agreement.")
20. If you are a victim of squirrel violence, immediately report it to the SVRC hotline. Be sure to get a good look at the squirrel for identification purposes and remember its size, fur color, tail length, and level of rage. (See Appendix E: "Squirrel Identification.")
Lesson No. 3 - All blimps are female.
I was beginning to get a little worried after Mandelbaum hadn't spoken to me in several days. I'm not used to him being so silent; it's very out of character for him. I couldn't imagine he'd really be so insecure as to let my relationship with Freddie come between the two of us. Did he really harbor such a grudge against the boy that he was giving me the silent treatment?
Anywho, I didn't let that awkwardness interfere with my mentorship of the lad. Over our time together, I learned that Freddie held something of a torch for a young lady at the school. Her name was Melissa, and she was quite the fancy of all the boys in their grade. She was lovely in appearance, came from a wealthy upstanding family, and she could "dab like what." (Freddie's words. I'm assuming that's... good?) I was eager to hear about the boy's crush, and I was quick to recount the story of how I played a recent part in the courtship of my own mentor, so I was something of a self-proclaimed expert in matchmaking. He didn't seem convinced.
I pressed upon him the importance of truly honoring our female counterparts - how we must treat them with respect; embrace them with fairness, dignity, and equality in all walks of life; and hold the door open for them. (Don't be mistaken about the old chauvinistic tradition that assumes women are too frail or weak to open doors for themselves; rather, the root of the custom actually implies something like, "I will hold this door open for you as a sign of my loyalty to you in mortal combat, that should the proprietor of this establishment deny your entrance, you and I shall slay him side by side and cover up any evidence of our crime by disposing of the body and making a blood pact of silence.")
The talk of girls made him eager to learn more lessons on the subject, as all adolescent boys would be in his case. He asked me, "Can I borrow the blimp? Maybe take Melissa for a ride?"
I laughed, not mockingly, but proud of his spirit, but I said wholeheartedly that that was not an option. At least not yet. He'd need to learn a lot more about the art of blimping before I'd ever let him pilot the vessel by himself.
"Then what are we waiting for? Show me already!" he exclaimed.
I really admired his spirit now! I wasted no time, seizing the educational opportunity that presented itself.
"You see, Freddie," I said in a soft voice, guiding him along the football field behind the school where the Eurydice was docked. For dramatic effect in this critical moment, I waved my outstretched hand in front of us as we passed the blimp and basked in the glory of her enormous silver and blue ballonet. "You may not know this, but all blimps are referred to as 'she'. It's a sign of respect. What you see before us, this is a blimpman's most prized treasure. Keep in mind, it's not a possession. Can anyone ever truly own a blimp? I think not. Instead, the blimp speaks to us; she gives us permission. In time, after we've paid our dues and done our prep work, she allows us to mount her and take her for a ride. Stop giggling Freddie and pay attention now. Yes, it is only the deserving and the worthy who will truly win the blimp's heart. That's love, Freddie. That's true love."
Freddie and I stared up at the blimp for a long while, reflecting in the silence. He finally turned to me and said, "Yeah, I get the whole 'love' thing and all... but what if you just wanna like... kiss her?"
"Kiss a blimp?" I asked.
"No, kiss a girl."
"Oh, well that's easy," I said. "Just buy her a nice present. Flowers. Girls like flowers."
Freddie nodded, and we continued on our walk.
#younglove #crush #respect #ladyblimps
Lesson No. 4 - Treat yourself.
I knew there was one obstacle in Freddie's life that he would always struggle to overcome. It was his financial situation. You see, his family didn't have that "Jumanji wealth" that so many adventurers like me have come across. His parents worked a total of six jobs, and even then they struggled to make ends meet. He would never be able to afford the fine clothes, gourmet meals, rare vintages of absinthe, and grandiose luxuries that the more fortunate individuals like me have achieved. It's so common for blimpmen to lead extravagant lifestyles of decadence and excess, not to show off, but we do so as a statement that we are committed to the moment, the here and now, the fleeting moment in the Story of Time that we call life. Tomorrow is not a guarantee so, you know, treat yourself.
But I knew I had to get Freddie to look past material possessions, to stop comparing himself to the other students who came from wealthy backgrounds, and focus more on honorable qualities that could build his own character, such as the ability to work hard and make a living.
"So you're saying... I should get a job?" he asked hesitantly. "Can't I just work for you?"
Believe me, I would have hired the boy in a heartbeat, but unfortunately it would go strictly against the policies of the Junior Blimping Club, which state that mentors can't give money to the mentees or even hire them as employees. (There was some incident with sweatshops back in the day that gave us a bad rap, where children were accidentally sewing their fingers into blimp balloon canvases. Thanks a lot, Great Depression.)
Instead, I was able to arrange an apprenticeship for Freddie with the Manservants Guild. My own butler, Reginald, was happy to help. We were at my home, and Reggie was helping Freddie tie his bowtie on straight. Freddie tugged bitterly at his coat as he inspected himself in the mirror.
"This is going to make the other kids make fun of me even more!"
"Not at all!" I exclaimed. "There's no profession more noble than that of a manservant. Just look at Reggie here. I mean, sure he has his faults, like his rock n' roll lifestyle outside of work and his constant amorous advances upon my wife, but deep down he's a fine manservant with superbly noble qualities. I mean, he'll never compare to Mandelbaum, but who can? In sum, Reggie is doing a fine job."
"Thank you, sir," said Reggie, and I scolded him for interrupting. (And then I whispered to Freddie that this openly resentful banter between master and manservant is actually a time-honored code language that conveys gratitude for hard work and an expectation of high standards. Freddie made a mental note of it.) "Reggie will show you that manservants are indeed men of countless skills, and they have a humble but boundless knowledge of the world around them. Now, let's get you off to work. I've been told that this evening you will be helping serve at a party that is a bit short staffed. It's a birthday party, for a girl about your age."
Freddie shouted an objection at me, but I said, "Don't worry, lad! I checked, and I've been assured that the young lady is not a student at Brazenbuild. You will remain completely unnoticed, all the while you are handsomely paid for your services."
He wasn't thrilled, but we headed off to the location of the party.
We arrived at an extravagant mansion, which happened to be the home of a well known public official, and he greeted us at the door.
"It's about time! You were supposed to be here an hour ago," he shouted, clearly stressed and pressed for time. "She's been fussing all day about her damned dress. She says she's going trip on her tail on the dance floor out back. 'Well, don't dress as a mermaid!' I told her. But does she listen? No. 'You never let me do anything I want! Blah, blah, blah!' 'Well fine! Wear that stupid fish tail and fall flat on your face if that's what you really want!'"
He paused and let out an exasperated sigh. "Just do something about the dance floor, will you?"
I nudged Freddie, and he cleared his throat. "Right away, sir. We'll sandpaper it down a bit, give it some traction."
"I don't need the details," barked the father. "Just make it happen."
Freddie and Reginald got straight to work while I helped myself to an apéritif at the bar. As guests arrived and the party kicked into gear, the DJ played some terrible music that literally made me want to barf out of my ears, but all the kids were having a grand time and singing along.
A while later, Freddie came running up to me in a panic. He whispered, "You said this wasn't a Brazenbuild party!"
He pointed, and that's when I saw Melissa, his crush from school, entering the room with a few other girls. She spotted Freddie and me instantly and headed over to our location. My mentee tried to duck out of sight, but it was too late, as he had already been spotted by the girl.
"Oh, hey Freddie. I didn't know you knew my cousin Dana. That's cool you could make it to her quinceañera."
Freddie was at a loss for words, but I jumped to his aid and said, "Yes, that's right. Freddie received a special invite. Actually, he wasn't sure if he could be here tonight because there was a scheduling conflict. You see, he just came from the Junior Blimping Club's annual gala. Where he was the guest of honor. And received an award. For being awesome. Thus the tuxedo."
Freddie rolled his eyes, but Melissa nodded and said, "Wow. Savage. You look nice." And then she walked off with the other girls who were giggling.
Freddie was so stunned, but I grinned and pat him on the back. "You'll be the talk of the party now, my friend! Get out there and show them what you've got."
As the celebration continued, all the kids laughed and joked and danced and took selfies where no one was actually showing their face but hiding behind stupid finger gestures. They spun around the dance floor, doing the most stupid dance moves, awkwardly unsure of where to touch each other exactly but still totally having the best night of their lives. I stood off at the edge of the room, smiling and reflecting on the joys of youth being displayed there before me.
Freddie was indeed the talk of the town, as girls left and right fought to get a moment alone with him. He ran with the little white lie I told about his award, and I heard him embellishing the story to the other kids.
"What award did you get?" one girl asked him.
Freddie replied, "Actually, they gave me my own blimp."
Then one of the more jealous boys asked him where his blimp was, if that story were even true.
Freddie replied smoothly, "Oh, well they said they'd have to hang onto it for now. It was supposed to come with chrome-plated propellers, but they accidentally sent titanium ones instead." The other kids ooh'd and aah'd.
As the night wore on, it seemed Freddie could do no wrong. He was fitting right in and even stealing some of the spotlight, which caused the birthday girl to angrily flap her tail. She threw a tantrum, and suddenly, the girl's father came charging onto the dance floor.
"HEY! I'm not paying you to schmooze with the guests! You're not here to have fun, you're here to work. Now start acting like a manservant, go grab a tray, and start serving some hors d'oeuvres!"
It was then that the other kids started to catch on to the ruse. Freddie was busted, and he stumbled over his words trying to come up with a cover.
I quickly rushed to his rescue and exclaimed, "How dare you treat a Junior Blimper so dishonorably! The Blimping Corps and I will have words to say about that! Why, you'll hear from us at the next election, sir!"
But by then, it was too late. Freddie pushed past me and fled out the front door. I chased him out onto the front lawn of the mansion and called for him to stop and come back.
"Leave me alone!" he cried. "You've done nothing but make my life worse! I hate you, and I hate blimps!"
I was appalled. "Freddie, surely you don't--"
"Just leave me alone, you rich idiot. I'll never be like you and have all these stupid parties and clothes and expensive meals of koala meat or whatever the hell it is you eat. I'll never fit in."
And then he took off running down the dark street in front of the house. I considered that maybe I should have called the police; I couldn't imagine having to explain to his parents that I'd let him run off alone into the night. But I knew there was nothing more for me to do. I'd lost him, and Freddie would have to find his own way now.
#angst #farewellfreddie #mermaidparty
#happybirthdaydana #jumanjiwealth
Lesson No. 5 - Adventure is a blimpman's highest calling.
Days passed and I still hadn't heard from Freddie. After our falling out at the party, he refused to speak to me. I felt like a complete failure in my duties as a mentor in the Junior Blimping Club, and I regretted that I ever undertook such a challenging and impossible task. I don't know anything about children, let alone teaching them the ways of a blimpman's life. In my time of doubt and despair, I knew there was only one person I could turn to. But the real question was would he even take me back?
You see, Mandelbaum had never been a big fan of Freddie. More accurately, you could say he distrusted the boy since the beginning of my relationship with him, and since then, he had been giving me the silent treatment. He didn't answer his phone, but I was able to find Mandelbaum at the SVRC Headquarters. There wasn't much see from outside of the building; consider your typical underfunded, understaffed, barely-maintained government agency and that's basically what the noble servicemen at the SVRC had to work with. The other agents recognized me as a regular visitor and a financial donor to their cause, so they let me have access to the compound, pointing me out back where they said Mandelbaum was hanging out. I found him working on an up-armored hang glider that was meant to serve as an anti-squirrel defense vehicle. I found him there, and he was tightening some nuts and bolts as I approached, his biceps bulging, but he paid me no notice.
"It looks like you were right," I said awkwardly. "Freddie was nothing but trouble. All that work with him and all I got was a bit of disappointment and a broken heart. Well, at least he left me my blimp, and... you."
Mandelbaum paused his work, and he finally looked up at me. But then, surprisingly, he shook his head.
"Really?" I asked. "You won't forgive me? You were right, okay? I should have listened to you. I thought I'd at least walk away with our friendship intact."
But then he interrupted me and told me to stop acting like an idiot and look to where he was pointing. I turned around, puzzled, and my eyes slowly moved toward the sky above us. I gasped.
The Eurydice was high in the sky at that point, floating far ahead and traveling in the opposite direction from where we stood.
"Freddie stole my blimp!"
I couldn't believe it! After all I'd done for the lad, this was how he thanked me? By stealing my blimp for some adolescent joyride? I scrambled for a solution, pulling out my phone in order to call the police, but Mandelbaum grabbed me by the arm. He pointed to his hang glider.
Within minutes, Mandelbaum and I were soaring through the air like a majestic pelican. We had launched ourselves from the top of the SVRC headquarters building, and Mandelbaum steered the glider through the airways. I must admit it felt good to be tucked so closely to my friend, dangling in the harness together, our two bodies pressed warmly against each other. I could smell his musk as we caught a nice thermal updraft that sent us soaring higher into the sky.
We sailed for several minutes, and I finally became oriented to the direction in which we were traveling. "I know where he's taking the blimp," I said.
A few minutes later, we arrived at the Brazenbuild School, where Freddie had stopped the blimp and left it hovering over the back lot of the school. The rope ladders had been lowered, and I could see he had tied down the anchor rope to the school's flagpole. (I can't lie, but part of me admired that he had learned from my tutelage and was indeed able to pilot the blimp successfully in a solo flight.) Mandelbaum steered the glider, and we deftly landed onto the deck of the blimp.
As I dismounted, I couldn't believe what I saw. Nearly half the student body must have been aboard my blimp, and they were throwing the biggest party I'd ever seen. Children were dancing, screaming, and trashing every inch of my beautiful blimp with their raucous behavior. Empty absinthe crates were sprawled all over the deck. And it was the good stuff too - vintage bottles from the Austrian Empire!
"Oh my god," I exclaimed in horror. "They're drunk!"
But Freddie sidled up next to me with his head hung low. "Actually, we only tried one sip of that green stuff. It tasted terrible, so we threw it out. I guess they think they're drunk now."
I looked around, and sure enough the signs were clear. These kids had no idea what they were doing. They laughed and pointed at me, and Melissa and her friends were shouting, "Look at this old Jeff!" and "Cool blimp, Jeff!"
WHO THE HELL IS THIS JEFF PERSON THEY KEEP TALKING ABOUT?! Ugh, I really hate teenage slang.
All I knew is that I had to get them off my blimp, safely, before anyone got hurt or got into trouble.
"I'm really sorry," Freddie said desperately. "I never meant for it to get this crazy. The other kids were just dogging me after I ran away from the party, making fun of me and saying I didn't even own a blimp. I had to prove them wrong. And also...," he paused, hanging his head in shame, "I was the one who did the helium prank in the auditorium. I'm sorry."
I shook my head. "I know lad. I know." I tried my best to give the boy a warm rub on the shoulder, but I must admit my anger at the time outweighed my patience. "Help me get everyone off the blimp, and we'll call it a lesson learned."
He nodded and started corralling his fake-drunk friends toward the rope ladder.
It was about an hour later when Headmaster Tutten showed up with the police. He was certainly in a frenzy, but who could blame him?
"What happened?!" he shouted. "Did anyone get hurt? Damn it! I knew we shouldn't have let girls into this school! Did we ever have a blimping incident before them? No! Not a one!"
I tried to calm him down, saying, "Actually sir, this was all my fault. I--"
But suddenly Freddie stepped up and cut me off. "No, it's my fault, sir. I stole the blimp. I'm responsible for this. Only me. I just wanted to impress Melissa, if I'm being honest."
The headmaster was appalled. Eventually, he groaned and said, "So it was a girl. Typical."
Nevertheless, he was furious, and he shouted curses at Freddie that I simply can't repeat here, but Freddie stood his ground and took the scolding like a man. I was proud of him for that, if nothing else.
Later that evening, the school grounds were emptied, and Freddie had received his punishment (five days suspension plus a mandatory presentation to the student body on "why girls should mind their own business and not pressure boys into stealing blimps"). Only the three of us remained on campus: Freddie, Mandelbaum, and me. I took a moment to say my farewell to the lad and let him know that after today's adventure, it might be a while before I visit him again. He looked down at the ground sadly.
"Why? Because I disappointed you?"
But I grabbed him excitedly by the shoulders. "My lad! Not at all! Don't you see? You haven't failed me at all; you've passed every test thrown your way! You learned lessons of honor, love, blimp piloting, and even adventure. You've answered the call of the blimp. The reason I can't visit is because there's nothing left for me to teach you."
Freddie smiled, and I affectionately ruffled his hair. His parents eventually showed up and carted him off back home. It was a bittersweet ending. That left Mandelbaum and me alone there at the school. I looked over at my companion, who had been so loyal in every facet of friendship, even in my times of foolishness and unfairness, and that's when I realized that perhaps there was another lesson to be learned...
Lesson No. 6 - A blimpman needs a good companion.
#theend #guidetoblimping #thesixthlesson
#whothehellisjeff #success
Hello everyone, I'm excited to share that I had the opportunity to serve as a mentor to an underprivileged youth! As you know, the Blimping Corps has a hand in sponsoring several youth programs. For example, just recently you may have had a Little Blimpie come knock on your door, trying to sell you some baked goods or perhaps a gas-powered chainsaw. (They work so hard on those chainsaw demonstrations; it's always nice to pitch in.) Or maybe you've seen a troop of Blimp Scouts out in the woods, learning to tie knots and perform other rope-related activities that establish early blimping skills. Or maybe you've donated to the Future Blimpers of America, a college preparatory program that prepares high school students for a strenuous four years in a university blimp studies program. Well, I had the honor to become a mentor with the Junior Blimping Club, which has been working closely with adolescents since its establishment in 1905. I was really moved by their enthusiastic approach at building a love for blimping during a youth's formative years, so it seemed like a great way to get involved in the community.
Anyway, the Junior Blimping Club pairs experienced blimpmen, such as myself, with youth who may be in need of a role model. Since my particular mentee is a minor, I'm a little hesitant to share a story about him. Let's call him "Schmeddie" for the sake of keeping his identity protected. Okay, that's dumb, I'm not calling him that. His name is Freddie. But I just won't say his last name, deal?
As I was saying, Freddie had been going through a challenging time when we first met. He came from a rough neighborhood, and his parents worked three jobs apiece. (Dad is a handyman-cobbler-fishmonger, and mom is a maid-dogwalker-dogmaid.) They worked hard to pay for his tuition at an elite private school known as the Brazenbuild School for Boys and Now Girls Technically. The headmaster at Brazenbuild approached me personally, knowing me to be a fine and influential blimpman in our community, and he thought I might influence Freddie in a positive manner. The young man had been having some trouble fitting in at school, what with the skipping class, occasional fisticuffs with rich kids, and one offense involving a loose squirrel set in the girls' locker-room (formerly the boys' sweat lodge).
"I'd expect this kind of trouble from girls," said Headmaster Tutten with a scoff, "but a boy? Surely, no. They have too much sense to be stirring up this kind of ruckus when everything is just fine the way it has been for years."
So over the past few weeks, I've been meeting with Freddie regularly. The first few meetings - if I'm being honest - didn't go so well. In fact, it wasn't until our fourth meeting that I realized the boy I had been meeting with wasn't actually Freddie at all, but rather a totally separate boy that Freddie had been paying off. Instead of going to Junior Blimping Club meetings with me, like he had been telling his parents he was doing, he was actually off at the dog track. It wasn't until his mother was attending a race with one of her clients, a wealthy greyhound, that Freddie got busted.
So then I started meeting with the real Freddie. He did start to warm up to me a little when he first heard that I owned a blimp. I could see that eager look in his eyes that so many young men get when they first hear about the unfettered glory of flying in a lighter-than-air airship. It was then that I asked him if he wanted to see my blimp.
"Definitely! And you'll let me fly it?" he exclaimed excitedly.
"Easy there," I said with a hearty but fatherly laugh, "piloting a blimp is more art than science. Yes, you need to learn skills, but it takes years of apprenticeship to really know what it takes to tame the skies. The Eurydice is a masterpiece of a blimp, and only the hands of a skilled artist may caress her supple balloon."
He giggled. I did too. That's when I knew this mentorship thing would be alright.
I started dropping Freddie off at school each morning for the next week. He really took a liking to arriving via blimp at the front doors of the school. Soon he became the envy of every Dick and Jane wearing the Brazenbuild uniform. I felt proud that Freddie was beginning to turn his image around, all thanks to the admirable influence of the Blimping Corps.
I overheard him talking to some of his classmates. "Take a look at this Jeff," he said, pointing to me and the blimp. "He's gonna let me fly it someday."
The other kids exclaimed in wonder, "Is that true, Jeff? You're gonna let Freddie fly it?"
I didn't know who this Jeff fellow was that they were talking about, but I said that with the right amount of training and hard work - and most importantly, heart - anyone was capable of flying a blimp. They laughed - no doubt imagining their own joyous future as successful blimpmen - and they headed inside the school.
Later on, I met up with my dearest companion Mandelbaum over kopi luwak coffee* and told him all about my work with Freddie - how he was beginning to turn around from a devious scamp to a most honorable junior blimper. Mandelbaum took a long thoughtful sip of his pre-digested coffee and looked up at me. I could only wonder what he was thinking. Then he advised me that I should be careful, that I shouldn't get too invested.
I was really surprised by his somewhat sour attitude about the whole thing. Could it be that my friend is a little jealous that I'm spending my time with someone other than him? I found it endearing.
Anyway, I was really excited about working with Freddie some more in order to take the young lad under my wing, and I was considering some future lessons that I might teach him. I thought, "Maybe next time I'll teach him how to grease up an aft propeller. Those words sound funny enough to a teenage boy, right? Grease, aft, propeller. He'll get a kick out of that."
All I could think about was how good it felt to do some good! But little did I know how much wisdom my friend Mandelbaum would turn out to possess...
#mentor #juniorblimpingclub #BSfBaNGT #freddie
*Ask about the secret menu next time you go to Starbucks. If it's civet season, treat yourself to some delicious pre-digested coffee. Totally worth the $235.45 for a grande size!
Lesson No. 2 - There is no title more honorable than "blimpman."
Everything was going great with my involvement in the Junior Blimping Club. My eager mentee, Freddie, was learning all about the wonderful world of blimping. He really took a liking to the hands-on aspects of blimping, like ballast hoisting and the way helium makes your voice sound funny. (I used to enjoy such youthful whimsicality myself, but as of late I've become less amused by high-pitched voices and squeaking sounds, especially after all these deadly run-ins with squirrels.)
Freddie and I were spending day after day together, and I never caught any signs that the boy was having any trouble. Rather, he was growing in his education, about blimps and about life. In fact, Headmaster Tutten over at the Brazenbuild School was so impressed with me after Freddie's change from a rascally jackanape to a somewhat-less-rascally whippersnapper that he invited me to speak in front of the whole student body. He figured more students would benefit from hearing a speech by an esteemed blimpman.
I arrived at the school on the day of the aforementioned assembly, and I was pleased to see that my friend Mandelbaum was also there. He was at the podium just finishing a lecture on squirrel safety tips, but unfortunately the crowd of rambunctious adolescents in the auditorium weren't paying him much attention. (It's a shame really that they don't take the impending threat of squirrel violence more seriously. But who does at that age, you know? We all remember our foolish decisions from our youth.)
Arriving late, I found my seat up on the stage next to a few other guest speakers, and I soon spotted Freddie seated down in the crowd. I waved to him, and he leaned over and whispered something to his neighboring friend - no doubt bragging about his own personal affiliation with the keynote speaker. Mandelbaum finished his rather grim and gory lecture, ending with a detail about the countless ways that squirrels can maim you, and no one clapped but me. He mumbled something angrily under his breath as he left the stage, something about no respect.
My turn had arrived and I walked up to the podium and introduced myself, but I was quickly interrupted by a kid in the crowd shouting, "My name is Jeff!" All the others laughed hysterically. (It kind of sounded like Freddie's voice, but who can tell any semi-pubescent boy's voice apart from another.) I really didn't get what they were laughing about anyway.
I cleared my throat and continued on: "Thank you Headmaster Tutten, staff, and students of the Brazenbuild School. It truly brightens my day to be here with you today. Let me ask you this. Who here has ever considered a job where they can sleep in late and work any hour they want?"
The crowd cheered.
"And who here wants a job where there's no boss, and there's no man telling you what to do?"
They cheered some more; now I really had them on the hook.
"And who here wants to be stinking rich?!"
A frenzy of applause.
"Well you better get over it because that job doesn't exist."
Silence...
"But what I can offer you is an exciting career in blimping. Yes, being a blimp pilot is exciting and full of adventure, but it's also full of hard work. You have to get up early, conduct regular blimp maintenance that takes an exhausting number of hours, and there are actually, like, a ton of laws regulating blimp flights in domestic airspace. Plus, it's a really expensive way to get around, you guys."
I was losing them, I could tell. I looked at Freddie, who wasn't even making eye contact with me, and he seemed embarrassed. I had to think of something quick.
"Actually, forget all about that. Hey, have you ever heard of the Pingdu pelican? Well that's a blimping adventure you simply must hear!"
I was only a few minutes into the start of my tale, their eager young ears clinging to my every word, when some commotion in the audience suddenly caught my attention. I glanced over at Mandelbaum who was standing backstage, and he was positioned as alert and upright as a meerkat defending its burrow from a tawny eagle. I knew something was up, but before I could even register my thoughts, several girls in the crowd let out blood-curdling SCREAMS.
Mandelbaum sprung into action, and he dived onto the stage, tackling me to the ground and no doubt saving my life from some potential assassin. I lay there on the stage, dazed, looking up thankfully into his beautiful brown eyes, being smothered safely in his vast bosom, but he wasted no time getting back into the action. He leapt off the stage and charged into the screaming crowd of children.
I could hear - but not see - what was causing the chaos. Squeaking. Vicious squawks and squeals that were the unmistakable cries of a SQUIRREL. I would know that sound anywhere. Panic set in. It was a madhouse in that auditorium as children screamed in terror and were climbing over seats. Mandelbaum raced into the crowd of stampeding children, flinging their tiny bodies into the air left and right in an attempt to get to the center of the threat.
I came to my senses and got to my feet. I followed him into the crowd as fast as I could. Despite my own terror, I knew I had to help. However, my selfish thoughts (I'm ashamed to say) were only of Freddie's safety and no one else's. Where was he at the time of the attack? Was he far enough away from harm? Mandelbaum finally reached the location of the unseen squirrel, and that's when the mood in the room suddenly changed.
The children all around were rolling on the floor with laughter and jabbing insults at each other for being "scared, whatever, I wasn't scared, you were scared." Mandelbaum slowly picked something up off the ground. It was a loose, flapping piece of rubber.
"A helium balloon?" I asked.
Headmaster Tutten had Freddie by the ear and was dragging him up the main aisle toward the exit. Mandelbaum and I followed them, and by the time we arrived in the narthex, Freddie was receiving an earful from the red-faced and fuming headmaster.
"How dare you! Did a girl put you up to this?!"
"It wasn't me!" cried Freddie. "I swear!"
I stepped in and put some distance between Freddie and the angry headmaster. I said calmly, "Freddie, are you sure you had nothing to do with this? Are you telling me this helium did not come from my blimp?"
Freddie had his hands in the air, a plea for mercy, tears welling up in his eyes. "It wasn't me! The other kids are always jealous of me. They see me riding around in that blimp, and they hate on me. No matter what I do, they'll never like me. That's why they pulled the prank - they thought it would be funny to scare everybody after all that talk about squirrels and junk. They wanted to blame it on me."
I reached out and put a hand on the boy's shoulder. I hadn't realized until then just how small he was. I really did feel sorry for him. It wasn't his fault that he'd been put in this unfair situation - a new school, an outcast.
I could feel the heavy gazes of Mandelbaum and the headmaster weighing on me, awaiting my decree of judgment. I turned to them, holding the rather damning piece of evidence of the empty helium balloon in my hand. I straightened my tie and said firmly, "Unless there's any proof that this balloon came from Freddie, and not some other child, then I do believe we're done here."
The headmaster scoffed bitterly and said that he could not definitively prove that the balloon came from Freddie. Mandelbaum remained silent. With that, I turned the boy away with my arm around his shoulder, and we headed out of the auditorium. Freddie looked back at the two scowling men on the way out the door, and I'm still not certain even now, but I'm pretty sure I caught the slightest glimpse of a smirk on the boy's face.
#guestspeaker #heliumprank #squirrelsafety #careersinblimping
-----
The SVRC Field Guide for Squirrel Safety:
1. Don't touch a squirrel; it makes them angry.
2. Don't feed a squirrel; it fuels their rage.
3. Don't make eye contact with a squirrel; it makes them angry.
4. Pretty much everything makes them angry.
5. If you do make eye contact with a squirrel, it's already too late. There are already two more squirrels - one on your left and one on your right - who are closing in on you. (See Appendix A: "Velociraptor Hunting Style.")
6. Keep at least 50 meters between you and any squirrel.
7. Don't let a squirrel see you gathering nuts; this is a sign of aggression.
8. Don't turn your back to a squirrel; this is a sign of passive aggression.
9. Don't discuss politics with a squirrel.
10. Don't mimic a squirrel's voice or squirrel sounds.
11. Don't say a squirrel's name three times; this summons them.
12. Don't try to repel a squirrel with chemical repellants; this only gets them high and makes them more aggressive. (See Appendix B: "Levels of Squirrel Rage.")
13. Always be aware of your surroundings. (For more information about how to look up to spot flying squirrels, see Appendix C: "How to Look up to Spot Flying Squirrels.")
14. If you are bitten by a rabid or zombie squirrel, immediately seek medical help.
15. Don't climb trees in squirrel-infested areas.
16. If you hunt squirrels, expect retaliation.
17. Don't touch a squirrel corpse (i.e., roadkill), or you may be blamed for the crime.
18. Don't enter the squirrel kingdom of Squercia (aka the Great Oakdom) without express invitation, a diplomatic envoy, and a peace offering of at least nine bushels of acorns.
19. Never allow squirrels to possess the secret knowledge of making fire. (See Appendix D: "The Prometheus Agreement.")
20. If you are a victim of squirrel violence, immediately report it to the SVRC hotline. Be sure to get a good look at the squirrel for identification purposes and remember its size, fur color, tail length, and level of rage. (See Appendix E: "Squirrel Identification.")
Lesson No. 3 - All blimps are female.
I was beginning to get a little worried after Mandelbaum hadn't spoken to me in several days. I'm not used to him being so silent; it's very out of character for him. I couldn't imagine he'd really be so insecure as to let my relationship with Freddie come between the two of us. Did he really harbor such a grudge against the boy that he was giving me the silent treatment?
Anywho, I didn't let that awkwardness interfere with my mentorship of the lad. Over our time together, I learned that Freddie held something of a torch for a young lady at the school. Her name was Melissa, and she was quite the fancy of all the boys in their grade. She was lovely in appearance, came from a wealthy upstanding family, and she could "dab like what." (Freddie's words. I'm assuming that's... good?) I was eager to hear about the boy's crush, and I was quick to recount the story of how I played a recent part in the courtship of my own mentor, so I was something of a self-proclaimed expert in matchmaking. He didn't seem convinced.
I pressed upon him the importance of truly honoring our female counterparts - how we must treat them with respect; embrace them with fairness, dignity, and equality in all walks of life; and hold the door open for them. (Don't be mistaken about the old chauvinistic tradition that assumes women are too frail or weak to open doors for themselves; rather, the root of the custom actually implies something like, "I will hold this door open for you as a sign of my loyalty to you in mortal combat, that should the proprietor of this establishment deny your entrance, you and I shall slay him side by side and cover up any evidence of our crime by disposing of the body and making a blood pact of silence.")
The talk of girls made him eager to learn more lessons on the subject, as all adolescent boys would be in his case. He asked me, "Can I borrow the blimp? Maybe take Melissa for a ride?"
I laughed, not mockingly, but proud of his spirit, but I said wholeheartedly that that was not an option. At least not yet. He'd need to learn a lot more about the art of blimping before I'd ever let him pilot the vessel by himself.
"Then what are we waiting for? Show me already!" he exclaimed.
I really admired his spirit now! I wasted no time, seizing the educational opportunity that presented itself.
"You see, Freddie," I said in a soft voice, guiding him along the football field behind the school where the Eurydice was docked. For dramatic effect in this critical moment, I waved my outstretched hand in front of us as we passed the blimp and basked in the glory of her enormous silver and blue ballonet. "You may not know this, but all blimps are referred to as 'she'. It's a sign of respect. What you see before us, this is a blimpman's most prized treasure. Keep in mind, it's not a possession. Can anyone ever truly own a blimp? I think not. Instead, the blimp speaks to us; she gives us permission. In time, after we've paid our dues and done our prep work, she allows us to mount her and take her for a ride. Stop giggling Freddie and pay attention now. Yes, it is only the deserving and the worthy who will truly win the blimp's heart. That's love, Freddie. That's true love."
Freddie and I stared up at the blimp for a long while, reflecting in the silence. He finally turned to me and said, "Yeah, I get the whole 'love' thing and all... but what if you just wanna like... kiss her?"
"Kiss a blimp?" I asked.
"No, kiss a girl."
"Oh, well that's easy," I said. "Just buy her a nice present. Flowers. Girls like flowers."
Freddie nodded, and we continued on our walk.
#younglove #crush #respect #ladyblimps
Lesson No. 4 - Treat yourself.
I knew there was one obstacle in Freddie's life that he would always struggle to overcome. It was his financial situation. You see, his family didn't have that "Jumanji wealth" that so many adventurers like me have come across. His parents worked a total of six jobs, and even then they struggled to make ends meet. He would never be able to afford the fine clothes, gourmet meals, rare vintages of absinthe, and grandiose luxuries that the more fortunate individuals like me have achieved. It's so common for blimpmen to lead extravagant lifestyles of decadence and excess, not to show off, but we do so as a statement that we are committed to the moment, the here and now, the fleeting moment in the Story of Time that we call life. Tomorrow is not a guarantee so, you know, treat yourself.
But I knew I had to get Freddie to look past material possessions, to stop comparing himself to the other students who came from wealthy backgrounds, and focus more on honorable qualities that could build his own character, such as the ability to work hard and make a living.
"So you're saying... I should get a job?" he asked hesitantly. "Can't I just work for you?"
Believe me, I would have hired the boy in a heartbeat, but unfortunately it would go strictly against the policies of the Junior Blimping Club, which state that mentors can't give money to the mentees or even hire them as employees. (There was some incident with sweatshops back in the day that gave us a bad rap, where children were accidentally sewing their fingers into blimp balloon canvases. Thanks a lot, Great Depression.)
Instead, I was able to arrange an apprenticeship for Freddie with the Manservants Guild. My own butler, Reginald, was happy to help. We were at my home, and Reggie was helping Freddie tie his bowtie on straight. Freddie tugged bitterly at his coat as he inspected himself in the mirror.
"This is going to make the other kids make fun of me even more!"
"Not at all!" I exclaimed. "There's no profession more noble than that of a manservant. Just look at Reggie here. I mean, sure he has his faults, like his rock n' roll lifestyle outside of work and his constant amorous advances upon my wife, but deep down he's a fine manservant with superbly noble qualities. I mean, he'll never compare to Mandelbaum, but who can? In sum, Reggie is doing a fine job."
"Thank you, sir," said Reggie, and I scolded him for interrupting. (And then I whispered to Freddie that this openly resentful banter between master and manservant is actually a time-honored code language that conveys gratitude for hard work and an expectation of high standards. Freddie made a mental note of it.) "Reggie will show you that manservants are indeed men of countless skills, and they have a humble but boundless knowledge of the world around them. Now, let's get you off to work. I've been told that this evening you will be helping serve at a party that is a bit short staffed. It's a birthday party, for a girl about your age."
Freddie shouted an objection at me, but I said, "Don't worry, lad! I checked, and I've been assured that the young lady is not a student at Brazenbuild. You will remain completely unnoticed, all the while you are handsomely paid for your services."
He wasn't thrilled, but we headed off to the location of the party.
We arrived at an extravagant mansion, which happened to be the home of a well known public official, and he greeted us at the door.
"It's about time! You were supposed to be here an hour ago," he shouted, clearly stressed and pressed for time. "She's been fussing all day about her damned dress. She says she's going trip on her tail on the dance floor out back. 'Well, don't dress as a mermaid!' I told her. But does she listen? No. 'You never let me do anything I want! Blah, blah, blah!' 'Well fine! Wear that stupid fish tail and fall flat on your face if that's what you really want!'"
He paused and let out an exasperated sigh. "Just do something about the dance floor, will you?"
I nudged Freddie, and he cleared his throat. "Right away, sir. We'll sandpaper it down a bit, give it some traction."
"I don't need the details," barked the father. "Just make it happen."
Freddie and Reginald got straight to work while I helped myself to an apéritif at the bar. As guests arrived and the party kicked into gear, the DJ played some terrible music that literally made me want to barf out of my ears, but all the kids were having a grand time and singing along.
A while later, Freddie came running up to me in a panic. He whispered, "You said this wasn't a Brazenbuild party!"
He pointed, and that's when I saw Melissa, his crush from school, entering the room with a few other girls. She spotted Freddie and me instantly and headed over to our location. My mentee tried to duck out of sight, but it was too late, as he had already been spotted by the girl.
"Oh, hey Freddie. I didn't know you knew my cousin Dana. That's cool you could make it to her quinceañera."
Freddie was at a loss for words, but I jumped to his aid and said, "Yes, that's right. Freddie received a special invite. Actually, he wasn't sure if he could be here tonight because there was a scheduling conflict. You see, he just came from the Junior Blimping Club's annual gala. Where he was the guest of honor. And received an award. For being awesome. Thus the tuxedo."
Freddie rolled his eyes, but Melissa nodded and said, "Wow. Savage. You look nice." And then she walked off with the other girls who were giggling.
Freddie was so stunned, but I grinned and pat him on the back. "You'll be the talk of the party now, my friend! Get out there and show them what you've got."
As the celebration continued, all the kids laughed and joked and danced and took selfies where no one was actually showing their face but hiding behind stupid finger gestures. They spun around the dance floor, doing the most stupid dance moves, awkwardly unsure of where to touch each other exactly but still totally having the best night of their lives. I stood off at the edge of the room, smiling and reflecting on the joys of youth being displayed there before me.
Freddie was indeed the talk of the town, as girls left and right fought to get a moment alone with him. He ran with the little white lie I told about his award, and I heard him embellishing the story to the other kids.
"What award did you get?" one girl asked him.
Freddie replied, "Actually, they gave me my own blimp."
Then one of the more jealous boys asked him where his blimp was, if that story were even true.
Freddie replied smoothly, "Oh, well they said they'd have to hang onto it for now. It was supposed to come with chrome-plated propellers, but they accidentally sent titanium ones instead." The other kids ooh'd and aah'd.
As the night wore on, it seemed Freddie could do no wrong. He was fitting right in and even stealing some of the spotlight, which caused the birthday girl to angrily flap her tail. She threw a tantrum, and suddenly, the girl's father came charging onto the dance floor.
"HEY! I'm not paying you to schmooze with the guests! You're not here to have fun, you're here to work. Now start acting like a manservant, go grab a tray, and start serving some hors d'oeuvres!"
It was then that the other kids started to catch on to the ruse. Freddie was busted, and he stumbled over his words trying to come up with a cover.
I quickly rushed to his rescue and exclaimed, "How dare you treat a Junior Blimper so dishonorably! The Blimping Corps and I will have words to say about that! Why, you'll hear from us at the next election, sir!"
But by then, it was too late. Freddie pushed past me and fled out the front door. I chased him out onto the front lawn of the mansion and called for him to stop and come back.
"Leave me alone!" he cried. "You've done nothing but make my life worse! I hate you, and I hate blimps!"
I was appalled. "Freddie, surely you don't--"
"Just leave me alone, you rich idiot. I'll never be like you and have all these stupid parties and clothes and expensive meals of koala meat or whatever the hell it is you eat. I'll never fit in."
And then he took off running down the dark street in front of the house. I considered that maybe I should have called the police; I couldn't imagine having to explain to his parents that I'd let him run off alone into the night. But I knew there was nothing more for me to do. I'd lost him, and Freddie would have to find his own way now.
#angst #farewellfreddie #mermaidparty
#happybirthdaydana #jumanjiwealth
Lesson No. 5 - Adventure is a blimpman's highest calling.
Days passed and I still hadn't heard from Freddie. After our falling out at the party, he refused to speak to me. I felt like a complete failure in my duties as a mentor in the Junior Blimping Club, and I regretted that I ever undertook such a challenging and impossible task. I don't know anything about children, let alone teaching them the ways of a blimpman's life. In my time of doubt and despair, I knew there was only one person I could turn to. But the real question was would he even take me back?
You see, Mandelbaum had never been a big fan of Freddie. More accurately, you could say he distrusted the boy since the beginning of my relationship with him, and since then, he had been giving me the silent treatment. He didn't answer his phone, but I was able to find Mandelbaum at the SVRC Headquarters. There wasn't much see from outside of the building; consider your typical underfunded, understaffed, barely-maintained government agency and that's basically what the noble servicemen at the SVRC had to work with. The other agents recognized me as a regular visitor and a financial donor to their cause, so they let me have access to the compound, pointing me out back where they said Mandelbaum was hanging out. I found him working on an up-armored hang glider that was meant to serve as an anti-squirrel defense vehicle. I found him there, and he was tightening some nuts and bolts as I approached, his biceps bulging, but he paid me no notice.
"It looks like you were right," I said awkwardly. "Freddie was nothing but trouble. All that work with him and all I got was a bit of disappointment and a broken heart. Well, at least he left me my blimp, and... you."
Mandelbaum paused his work, and he finally looked up at me. But then, surprisingly, he shook his head.
"Really?" I asked. "You won't forgive me? You were right, okay? I should have listened to you. I thought I'd at least walk away with our friendship intact."
But then he interrupted me and told me to stop acting like an idiot and look to where he was pointing. I turned around, puzzled, and my eyes slowly moved toward the sky above us. I gasped.
The Eurydice was high in the sky at that point, floating far ahead and traveling in the opposite direction from where we stood.
"Freddie stole my blimp!"
I couldn't believe it! After all I'd done for the lad, this was how he thanked me? By stealing my blimp for some adolescent joyride? I scrambled for a solution, pulling out my phone in order to call the police, but Mandelbaum grabbed me by the arm. He pointed to his hang glider.
Within minutes, Mandelbaum and I were soaring through the air like a majestic pelican. We had launched ourselves from the top of the SVRC headquarters building, and Mandelbaum steered the glider through the airways. I must admit it felt good to be tucked so closely to my friend, dangling in the harness together, our two bodies pressed warmly against each other. I could smell his musk as we caught a nice thermal updraft that sent us soaring higher into the sky.
We sailed for several minutes, and I finally became oriented to the direction in which we were traveling. "I know where he's taking the blimp," I said.
A few minutes later, we arrived at the Brazenbuild School, where Freddie had stopped the blimp and left it hovering over the back lot of the school. The rope ladders had been lowered, and I could see he had tied down the anchor rope to the school's flagpole. (I can't lie, but part of me admired that he had learned from my tutelage and was indeed able to pilot the blimp successfully in a solo flight.) Mandelbaum steered the glider, and we deftly landed onto the deck of the blimp.
As I dismounted, I couldn't believe what I saw. Nearly half the student body must have been aboard my blimp, and they were throwing the biggest party I'd ever seen. Children were dancing, screaming, and trashing every inch of my beautiful blimp with their raucous behavior. Empty absinthe crates were sprawled all over the deck. And it was the good stuff too - vintage bottles from the Austrian Empire!
"Oh my god," I exclaimed in horror. "They're drunk!"
But Freddie sidled up next to me with his head hung low. "Actually, we only tried one sip of that green stuff. It tasted terrible, so we threw it out. I guess they think they're drunk now."
I looked around, and sure enough the signs were clear. These kids had no idea what they were doing. They laughed and pointed at me, and Melissa and her friends were shouting, "Look at this old Jeff!" and "Cool blimp, Jeff!"
WHO THE HELL IS THIS JEFF PERSON THEY KEEP TALKING ABOUT?! Ugh, I really hate teenage slang.
All I knew is that I had to get them off my blimp, safely, before anyone got hurt or got into trouble.
"I'm really sorry," Freddie said desperately. "I never meant for it to get this crazy. The other kids were just dogging me after I ran away from the party, making fun of me and saying I didn't even own a blimp. I had to prove them wrong. And also...," he paused, hanging his head in shame, "I was the one who did the helium prank in the auditorium. I'm sorry."
I shook my head. "I know lad. I know." I tried my best to give the boy a warm rub on the shoulder, but I must admit my anger at the time outweighed my patience. "Help me get everyone off the blimp, and we'll call it a lesson learned."
He nodded and started corralling his fake-drunk friends toward the rope ladder.
It was about an hour later when Headmaster Tutten showed up with the police. He was certainly in a frenzy, but who could blame him?
"What happened?!" he shouted. "Did anyone get hurt? Damn it! I knew we shouldn't have let girls into this school! Did we ever have a blimping incident before them? No! Not a one!"
I tried to calm him down, saying, "Actually sir, this was all my fault. I--"
But suddenly Freddie stepped up and cut me off. "No, it's my fault, sir. I stole the blimp. I'm responsible for this. Only me. I just wanted to impress Melissa, if I'm being honest."
The headmaster was appalled. Eventually, he groaned and said, "So it was a girl. Typical."
Nevertheless, he was furious, and he shouted curses at Freddie that I simply can't repeat here, but Freddie stood his ground and took the scolding like a man. I was proud of him for that, if nothing else.
Later that evening, the school grounds were emptied, and Freddie had received his punishment (five days suspension plus a mandatory presentation to the student body on "why girls should mind their own business and not pressure boys into stealing blimps"). Only the three of us remained on campus: Freddie, Mandelbaum, and me. I took a moment to say my farewell to the lad and let him know that after today's adventure, it might be a while before I visit him again. He looked down at the ground sadly.
"Why? Because I disappointed you?"
But I grabbed him excitedly by the shoulders. "My lad! Not at all! Don't you see? You haven't failed me at all; you've passed every test thrown your way! You learned lessons of honor, love, blimp piloting, and even adventure. You've answered the call of the blimp. The reason I can't visit is because there's nothing left for me to teach you."
Freddie smiled, and I affectionately ruffled his hair. His parents eventually showed up and carted him off back home. It was a bittersweet ending. That left Mandelbaum and me alone there at the school. I looked over at my companion, who had been so loyal in every facet of friendship, even in my times of foolishness and unfairness, and that's when I realized that perhaps there was another lesson to be learned...
Lesson No. 6 - A blimpman needs a good companion.
#theend #guidetoblimping #thesixthlesson
#whothehellisjeff #success
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