Ace's Balloon & Hoolahoop... Incident

Who knew that giving away hoolahoops could cause such a fuss??? Well, anyone who knows Ace would not be surprised. But, the Earth Day celebration was... caught off-guard.

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Transcript

                                       Ace’s Balloons and Hula-hoops…. Incident

             Yesterday was “Our Earth Day” at Balboa Park.  Ace was there to do one of his balloon and hula-hoop adventures.  Unlike the management of the Our Earth Day celebration, I was not caught completely by surprise.  I knew Ace has been collecting hula-  hoops because I saw him buy out two stores last month.

               I asked Ace why he didn’t just sign up to be part of the Our Earth Day with his art display balloon glitter thing. He said he figured they would just turn him down anyway.  I think it was just because Ace is naturally counter-culture.  Whatever the paradigm is, Ace is likely to head in the other direction.  Ace, as it turned out, was probably right that they would have turned him down.  You’ll see what I mean.

               He arrived on his bicycle towing a little cart with about forty big helium party balloons tied on with ten foot strings.  It was a magnificent sight.  He parked and opened up the card, revealing a helium tank and a pile of about fifty hula-hoops.  He blew up another twenty-five balloons with my help, and Ace turned down several offers to buy a balloon, saying, “Not until we are ready.”  He gave three away to small kids.

               About the time the balloons were being attached to the hula-hoops, the Our Earth Day staff realized he was not simply selling balloons.  He was clearly getting ready to launch this inflated monstrosity.  It was designed to hover about thirty feet off the ground, and as balloons naturally untwisted their strings, drop a hula-hoop, one at a time.  He could reel in the last of the balloons with a kite string when all the hula-hoops had dropped.  In essence, it was an elaborate balloon and hula-hoop giveaway.

               An Our Earth Day staff member apparently believed the balloons might, or were, going to escape because, at the last minute, he forbade Ace to launch the project.  The staff member, walkie-talkie in hand, explained at first condescendingly and then with hostility, that the balloons end up in the ocean where they are a source of great danger to sea mammals, fish, birds, and even turtles.  Ace probably should not have reacted quite so harshly to him at first.  The staff guy, fairly full of himself, bristled and doubled his volume when Ace declared, “You’re bothering me, airhead.”  Still, it was not until the irate staff member decided to take physical control of the melded balloon and hula-hoop concoction that hostility quickly took over.

               As sometimes happens when everyone thinks they are doing the right thing for everyone else, people lost track of the point.  By the time the staff member and Ace were yelling, pushing and threatening, the hula-hoops were floating away, and even I spotted them too late.  They were slowly drifting north toward the corner of the park at the intersection of Balboa and Victory boulevards, a major intersection.  The hula-hoops were slowly twisting in the air so you could see the release was proceeding as planned.  The moment came when the balloons released the ten pounds of glitter directly over the intersection.  Ten seconds later, it was raining hula-hoops.  Fifty hula-hoops came down in the intersection over a thirty second period.  Happily, there were no collisions, but the intersection was snarled for nearly an hour.  Ace outdid himself on this one.  A thing of beauty is a joy forever.  I will treasure the sight for years.

               But, it has been quite busy around here this afternoon.  First, the police were here.  They were looking for “the jerk” that was responsible for this morning’s hula-hoop mess at the intersection.  I pointed them in several wrong directions.  I do that well.  Afterward, Ace came by.  He had heard the hunt was on.  He came by to say he’s going out of town for a bit.  Seems a Grateful Dead cover band named The Muddy River Bucket Brigade from Gaithersburg, Maryland, is doing a tour and needs a road manager.  Ace, their road manager?  I shudder at the thought, but I had previously them a sterling recommendation of Ace’s character, honesty, and enthusiasm.  Balloons did not come up in the conversation.  Ace promised me that he would behave.  Right….

               So, the police are watching my house, and Ace is on the lam.  Frankly, I can use the quiet today.  Police at your door before noon over a few balloons and hula-hoops.  They need a life.  What is the world coming to?         

               Finally, I want to include an email that a few days later I received from Ace.

Dear John,

               I am on my way back to Los Angeles.  Things have not worked out with the Muddy River Bucket Brigade.  And, it’s not my fault.

               Sunday was our first gig.  There is a fried fish shack here on the coast of Maryland. It is really cool with decent shrimp and bottled beer galore.  It’s small inside, but has a big porch that runs the whole length around, about forty yards.  A good-sized gazebo is elevated just on the other side of the dirt parking lot.  The whole thing overlooks the ocean.

               But, it is a small fish shack with a dirt parking lot.  And most of the bathrooms are outhouses.  When we first pulled in, the first words were from Macy, our keyboard player, “What in gawd’s hell is this?”  Macy looks like Santa’s wife but can talk like a truck driver.  This comment was mild for her, so I was encouraged.

               Child, our drummer, was next, “Son of a biscuit, Ace, what the falafel did you get us into?”  Child is 6’-1”, 270 pounds of shaven, pierced, muscled tattoos.  He can be quite colorful in his comments.  

               Now, I saw the place for its possibilities.  The key would be to get enough people to fill the area from the porch, across the parking lot, to the gazebo.  Get enough people enjoying it at once, and this place could come alive.

               I pointed out the outstanding features of the place and that the Rolling Stones would jump at the chance to play a place with this much character.  They were half-convinced, so I told them we would set up in the gazebo overlooking the whole place, and I went inside to find management.

               The only person inside was a young, skinny kid with glasses.  He looked a lot like Arthur, our lead player, except with blond hair instead of red. Anyway, he didn’t seem to know much, and he took a long time to do it.  So, I just took charge, told him where we would set up and confirmed the money deal.  He got all food and bar sales, and the band keeps gate receipts.  His only words were, “cool.”  I think he might have been on meds.

               Gig was the next afternoon, Sunday, so I got right to work on publicity.  This place would need lots of people to be a good party.  Figuring a great end justifies the means, I put up about fifty posters all around town and the surrounding area. Some said Tom Petty was coming, some said Eric Clapton.  I even had a few Tom Jones and a half-dozen heralding the Monkeys.

               By Sunday afternoon the place was full, and it was a great party.  The band was caught up in excitement and played great: Rolling thunder in some places and a gentle breeze in others.

               Some people were upset about the advertising thing.  I refunded the $5 gate to anyone that asked.  I even refunded to people who waited until the very end and still asked.  This was most everyone.  It didn’t leave much.  After the posters, it all broke even.  I thought that seemed about right.  The band disagreed.

               The other problem was management.  They were furious.  Seems the right place was a mile up the road.  These things happen.

See ya,

Ace