Bob's Kite Flying Academy...

    April, at last!  Today is wonderfully sunny, but cool.  Everything is greening up.  It is a perfect day for flying kites and piloting remote controlled toy airplanes.  When I went to my local library I spotted a remote controlled plane buzzing around the athletic field behind the building.  The sight of the plane reminded me of how my father always helped me to fly kites and remote planes in the spring.  We had such a great time with them.  It was part of the spring rituals to usher in the season.  First we would go to the toy store to carefully select just the right kites and string.  Then we made the rounds to the specialty stores that carried the remote controlled model airplanes.  The rest of the day was spent on laying out the pieces for each of the projects to assemble and make ready the appropriate equipment for the seasonal flights. The sacrifice of an old broom handle was usually expected to create a handle to tie the end of the string to. Usually the kites were the first to go into the air.  If the winds were just right, my dad ran with the kites to get them launched properly.  Eventually I learned to do the launching on my own, even though I was a little kid.  My dad was proud of me when he saw that I was better at launching my kites than were my cousin's efforts to do so.  Getting just the right weight of materials for the tail of the kite was a specialty of my dad's.  Admittedly, I stunk at piloting the remote controlled airplanes, though.  After too many crashes we didn't bother with the airplanes so much anymore.  I didn't care.  I always loved flying the kites a lot more than fooling with the airplanes.  The kites gave you a feeling of being in the air, flying around with the kite.  My dad's greatest challenge each year was to see how far up he could get the kite to go.  I remember one time when he had five rolls of string pulled all the way out and wished he had more string. The wind was tugging on the kite pretty good.  Father was holding onto the end of the string talking to me about how he wished he had more string when the kite string slipped out of his fingers.  We were both horrified to think we were going to lose the kite after such a special effort.  "Let's chase it, Wendy!" my dad said excitedly to me.  So we hopped into the car and did our best to follow where the kite was off to.  "Can you see it?" he asked as he drove up the road attempting to follow the kite.  "I see it!  I see it!  It's going that way!" I shouted as I spotted the kite travelling several miles up the road.  We followed the kite for nearly 4 miles before it came down from its lofty journey.  Only slightly damaged in its crash to earth the kite was retrieved in an open field.  We were thrilled to be able to not only find the kite, but to repair it so that it could fly again.  That was a special kite to both of us.  The string of course was a lost cause.  Every kite flying season from then on, my dad made sure that we had more than enough string, just in case we had another special kite flying session.  Somehow I don't remember having one quite as dramatic as that one.  That's the one that I always remember whenever I spot someone flying kites in the spring.  It takes a lot of restraint on my part to not stop and help them to "do it right", the way my dad taught me.  Hopefully, they will all figure it out on their own.  And just maybe today is the day to go select the right kite and string for today's special flight.  What a great way to celebrate the beginning of April!