CaveGuy is full of hot air

I told my too kind and loving wife that I won tickets and so we were going to the Bluff International Balloon Festival. Without even looking up she said, “Finally a good use for all your hot air.” I was going to protest but I remembered Ms. Beckwith’s Shakespeare class, “The Lady doth protest too much, methinks.”
Okay, first who says “methinks” at the end of sentence? And second, I have waited forty years to use that kernel of knowledge from school. So, kids pay attention to your teacher.
They said lift-off was at 7 a.m. so we left way before normal people get up; except for cowboys, they have to get up early. “Burning daylight…cows get restless.” If you go to Bluff very often you know the people there are pretty chill. All the information I had was a text from the Red Rock DJ-Dave that said, “Go to Bluff and talk to Keith and he will give you a ride in a hot air balloon on Saturday morning.”
The first person I run into was Steve Simpson, no relation to Bart, who is lugging in enough coffee to make Brad Bunker’s Clydesdales win the Kentucky derby. I say, “Yo. Bart…I mean Steve, I need to find Keith.” I am bad with names, so this was an honest mistake and besides he has a brother Barry. All the data about Simpsons are stored in the same file in my brain. “Barry, Bart, Steve and OJ.” His (Steve) hands are full and so he points with his lips to the doors. I think he has been living near the reservation too long. “Ay, carabamba.” He considers himself bilingual. “Don’t have a cow man.”
The next person I run into is Terrill. I don’t know his last name because he is in my phone under “concrete”. He has the same problem as I do; no, not too much hot air. He is looking for some guy that is supposed to give him a ride in a balloon too. He doesn’t talk much. Most of his words are “Yep!” and “Nope.” If I get two words out of him, I always feel like we have had a great conversation and bonded. Sometimes, after three words I am tempted to give him a hug, but I don’t think he is hugger.
Finally, I find Keith’s wife, and she assures me that Keith is a real person and is “Here somewhere. Look for the guy with the beard.” Well, that’s going to narrow it down to a few hundred people, after all, this is Bluff; beards are as common as man-buns and boat shoes.
I put together my clues as quickly as Sherlock Holmes and sure enough I think I find Keith. He is wearing a jacket that says “Kanab” in big bold letters. I introduce myself, “Hi. I’m the CaveGuy. DJ-Dave told me you would give me a ride in a balloon if I could find you. Are you from Kanab?”
I think I lost him on “DJ-Dave” and “CaveGuy” and his head tilts slightly. He says, “No!” That’s all he said. I wasn’t sure if he meant “No I am not the CaveGuy. Who the hell is DJ-Dave. No, he won’t give me a ride in a balloon. Or no, he is not from Kanab. Turns out, he is not from Kanab. We never get to the bottom of that confusing tidbit. He is from New Mexico and has been piloting hot air balloons since 1972. I do the math and decide that he was with the Montgolfier brothers when they put a duck, sheep, and rooster in a balloon and sent them up in the air to see if they would die. I am not making this up!!
Of course, my semi-senile brain is asking the question why didn’t the Montgolfier brothers invent golf?
Because I am getting sentimental in my old age and don’t want to die doing something stupid, I gave my tickets to my daughter and granddaughter because I was still wondering if the “duck, sheep, and rooster” lived.
Keith recognized my mechanical aptitude and that I was a quick study, so he let me help get the balloon set up. When we were filling the balloon up with hot air my too kind and loving wife nudged my daughter and said, “Watch. With dad’s help this isn’t going to take long.” My too kind and loving wife chuckled; she thinks she is so funny.
The balloon lifted off and I cleverly yelled, “Toto you’re not in Kansas anymore.” My granddaughter gave me “you are so lame grandpa sign” as her eyes twinkled, she smirked and waived.
My loved ones survived because Keith had plenty of experience and piloted the hot air balloon over the Twin Rocks and safely landed. Because this was their first hot air balloon flight we had a “First Timer Ceremony” where we drank champagne, which tasted a lot like cider, and the Pilot Keith had them kneel before him and try to drink their cider without using their hands, while he recited the Hot Air Ballon Prayer and his helper poured the real champagne over their heads.
It’s a traditional blessing and I didn’t get all of it, but it said, “May the winds welcome you with softness, may the sun bless you with its warm hands... and set you gently back into the loving arms of Mother Earth.”
His prayer was answered and it seemed like a great way to end our day at the International Bluff Balloon Festival.
My attorney says that I must post a disclaimer to avoid lawsuits. So all names, places, events and other assorted statements are fictious and any resemblance to real people you might know should be disregarded. Except my too and loving wife; she really is too kind and too loving and not funny.